Fantasies (or Reality)
by Leopold846
Summary: Two vastly different people who are both dealing with what they want out of life and what they'll actually get, stumble into each others lives and find more than they excepted. Together they experience friendship, love, drug problems, and awkward moments - because love isn't a simple thing that comes easily to everyone. Modern AU.
1. Prologue

**Fantasies (or Reality)**

**Prologue (or the little thing ran into his foot...a couple of times...)**

**November 19th 1995 (or the beginning)**

**Sansa **

It was a dreary day in Grafton, WI, and the eldest Stark girl found herself trapped in her room. It had become her room when her stepbrother Jon moved out for college over the fall, meaning there were three rooms for four Stark children. Rob, the second eldest son, wanted the room, but his wish was denied when it became clear that if the two Stark girls were left to share a room much longer there would be great unpleasantness. As they faced impeding doom as the girls grew older, her mother and father decided it would be best to split apart their daughters, ages fourteen and thirteen, to prevent at least some of the quarrels that had become the norm. Sansa now sat alone in her room but her sister still impacted her day as dirty, angry, language flowed from Arya's room.

_Arya has no idea what a 'indoor voice' is._

She was shouting at her friend as she tried to kill him in some gory video game...or at least that is what she assumed since she had never watched her sister and Gendry play Street Combat or Mortal Fighter, or whatever the names were. Gendry had been over for about twenty minutes now and Sansa had already heard her sister yell the S-word four times, the F-word twice, and the A-word once. "C'mon you ice asshole, stay the fuck still!" echoed Arya's voice down the hallway and Sansa rolled her eyes.

_Now I've heard the A-word twice. _

The eldest Stark daughter rose from her chair and trudged to her bedroom door as she shook her head at her vulgar sister and hoped that their mother would be upstairs soon to quell Arya's profane, and grammatically incorrect, tirades. That Baratheon boy, was cute (but not as cute as her Joffery) and usually so polite and quiet most of the time, so it bewildered Sansa why he was such a bad influence on Arya.

_Whenever he comes over she's just the worst. _

With the door closed Sansa returned to her reading. On the desk in front of her was a beat up paperback book that had been in her possession since she was six. The cover had become tattered with time, the pages were faded and turning a sickly yellow, but Sansa liked to think those were all marks of a well-loved book. In truth, Sansa should have closed the door earlier because she knew that if someone were to walk in on her reading this, it would be embarrassing. She would admit that she was too old for the silly fairy tale...but it was her favorite.

**At noon she found dinner ready, and while at table, was entertained with an excellent concert of music, though without seeing anybody. But at night, as she was going to sit down to supper, she heard the noise Beast made, and could not help being sadly terrified. "Beauty," said the monster, "will you give me leave to see you sup?"**

**"That is as you please," answered Beauty trembling.**

**"No," replied the Beast, "you alone are mistress here; you need only bid me gone, if my presence is troublesome, and I will immediately withdraw. But, tell me, do not you think me very ugly?"**

**"That is true," said Beauty, "for I cannot tell a lie, but I believe you are very good natured."**

**"So I am," said the monster, "but then, besides my ugliness, I have no sense; I know very well, that I am a poor, silly, stupid creature."**

**"'Tis no sign of folly to think so," replied Beauty, "for never did fool know this, or had so humble a conceit of his own understanding."**

**"Eat then, Beauty," said the monster, "and endeavor to amuse yourself in your palace, for everything here is yours, and I should be very uneasy, if you were not happy."**

As immersed as she was in the story, Sansa barely noticed the soft tapping at her closed door or the noise of it opening behind her. "Sansa?" she heard her mother say, which caused Sansa to snap her book shut.

"Hi!" she merrily replied to her mother's unexpected entrance.

"Why was your door closed?"

"Oh, just Arya," Sansa sighed as she waved her hand towards her sister's room.

"I know," her mother agreed as she looked down and shook her head, "I asked her to keep it down."

"Thanks," Sansa quickly nodded, then wished that her mother would leave before she noticed what she was doing.

"Okay, you can keep the door open now," he mother suggested, "Arya will be more quiet."

"Sure," Sansa nodded as she knew that agreeing would get her mother out of the room faster. With a stoney smile, her mother turned out of the room, and left Sansa alone again with her story. She couldn't help but be annoyed by her mother's insistence that she keep the door open. This rule had been put in place for her when Joffery began to come over and they would hang out in her room, and Sansa saw no reason for it. Joffery might be...rough around the edges at times...but he was so darling. His hair so golden blond, curly in the back...his eyes bright glimmering green...she got lost in them sometimes when she was lucky enough to sit next to him in English. It didn't matter that sometimes he called Sansa names like 'bitch,' or 'twat' or 'oozing cum dumpster,' she knew he really loved her and one day they would be together, in a house filled with blushing blonde children, away from her wretched, uncouth sister.

Until then she had her stories, which would have to suffice through the weekend. On Monday she would be back at school and she her beloved, who was unjustly grounded over the weekend.

_He didn't kick that puppy...the little thing ran into his foot...a couple of times..._

Sansa looked over her shoulder as she still had some shame in her pleasure. When she saw no one was watching, she dove back into her perfect world.

**Tyrion**

The white porcelain was cool against his skin as he balanced on the toilet seat. He wasn't under the influence of anything at that moment, so it wasn't pills or booze causing his lack of balance. Most likely it was related to the fact he sat backwards, facing the tank of the toilet, that he was having a problem finding the sweet spot. He discovered sitting like this when he was thirteen and was tired of holding a dirty magazine when he masturbated. By turning around on the toilet, he would have a place to put down the Penthouse while he played with his pickle, and a 'backboard' of sorts to properly block his baby batter. It was probably his greatest discovery until he actually found out what a vagina felt like.

_It feels supremely better than this..._

The youngest son of accomplished attorney Tywin Lannister found himself in his father's spare bathroom this day, his left hand turning pages while his right contained a gob of lotion as he tried to accomplish his goal. The day had been strenuous and the tension had built on him, which caused him to take refuge away from his 'family.' This would be his last respite before dinner. Knowing his father, he probably would not allow wine at the table based on what happened at the last family dinner.

_Make one drunken joke about how you fucked a girl who quacked like a duck when she came and suddenly no more wine. I would never come here again if I didn't depend on him for money, food, and shelter. _

His right hand began to find its rhythm when he happened on a page with a voluptuous redhead. Her short hair was in two petite pigtails, and though she had been dressed as a schoolgirl two pages ago, she was now completely naked behind over what appeared to be the principal's desk. Her ass was popped in the air, her back arched perfectly, and her flawless skin was wonderfully and fraudulently airbrushed to match her clearly artificially enhanced breasts. She looked back into the camera with cool blue eyes, as if to let Tyrion know everything would be okay.

_And she would so fucking tight I'd have to scream. _

Outside the door there was some rustling, and mumbling from two different voices, followed by a slam on the door. "Tyrion! Get the fuck out!" his sister bellowed.

"One sec," Tyrion lied, knowing it would be at least another minute, then at least forty-five seconds for clean up and redressing.

"I know you're just jerking off! Now get the fuck out!" Cersei screamed, evidently not afraid to yell the words, 'jerking off' in her father's house.

"Use the other bathroom!" Tyrion yelled to the door as his mind lost focus on "Ruby" and her supple ass.

"My pills are in there!" she squealed back.

_Oh, yes, 'her pills' that she gets from her 'doctor' who isn't at all giving her this powerful anxiety medication because she is paying him under the table...in multiple ways I would guess. _

"One more second!" Tyrion howled at his sister then doubled his efforts. He flipped through a couple of pages before he confirmed that Ruby was the best he was going to get. Cersei continued to pound away, much like her brother, and his legs began to twitch and his muscles tightened, and his body violently bucked against the toilet. "Fuck," Tyrion hissed as he came, and his head snapped back as he spasmed.

"Tyrion!" his sister cried again. She stopped pounding at the door and instead rattled the doorknob back and forth as she wrestled to get in.

"One second for fuck's sake!" Tyrion bellowed as his legs trembled for a moment as he stood. Once his moment of pleasure passed, he reached for a wad of toilet paper to clean up his mess. His backboard served its purpose, and after a quick once over, it was clean...enough. He reached down and pulled up his underwear and pants.

"Come on!" he heard Cersei yell again as the door handle continued to rattle.

"Fine!" Tyrion answered as he opened the door. "Happy!" he yelled as soon as he saw his sister.

"No!" she screamed back and walked past him into the bathroom and grabbed for the green satchel of bathroom supplies she brought for the weekend. She tore apart the bag, threw some lipstick and a brush to side, then pulled out a white bottle, twisted it open, and popped two pills into her mouth and moaned as they slipped down her throat.

"Enjoy your medication?" Tyrion asked as he gawked at his sister's display of growing drug dependence.

She looked up into the mirror and glared at his reflection, the same glare she had given him for his entire life. Her eyes moved off him, to a different part of the bathroom, and she laughed.

"What's so funny?" Tyrion asked.

"Enjoy your defecation?" she asked as she stepped towards the toilet and lifted up the magazine.

"Fuck," he growled, then took a step back into the bathroom and attempted to rip the magazine out her hand, which she promptly held over his head. They were no longer children, so she could no longer tease him by placing things above his head, out of his reach, but he still had to put effort into reaching the magazine.

"She's cute," Cersei sneered as Tyrion grabbed his reading materials, spun around, and walked out of the bathroom and tried to ignore his sister's cackling as he left.

He walked down the hallway toward his bedroom to drop off the magazine in his room before heading down for dinner. The hall was lined with pictures of the Lannister children at different ages; Cersei as a baby, then at four, and at eight, and similar pictures of her twin brother Jamie. Before his room he reached a family portrait, with a mother and a father, a son and a daughter, but not Tyrion. It was the perfect family that he ruined just by existing. There was no picture of Tyrion in this hallway, his father never thought it necessary to add one, and of course his mother never demanded it. He took a deep sigh and passed by the portrait of the family he destroyed as the glossy paper of the magazine chilled his hand, and sulked back to his room.

**November 1st 2003 (or sometime later, the morning after 'that Halloween') **

**The Barista**

The stem wasn't building up to Sansa's liking so that she could create the sauna-like environment she craved before a double shift at Starbucks. She wasn't supposed to be stressed like this. When she first thought of last night's 'Halloween party,' she planned on having a small gathering of friends and family at a low key event, without any drama.

_Of course, I had to invite my emotionally unstable sister and her surprisingly equally dramatic boyfriend. _

The eldest Stark girl, and in some ways only Stark girl, could not find comfort in her usual morning routine, and the water could not tamp her nerves from the previous night. What was supposed to be a relaxing night to fully christen her new apartment became something very different. Arya wasn't fully to blame, but at the same time Sansa wasn't happy with her sister, and the knowledge that she was the cause of the stress curled around her spine.

_Well, maybe Gendry was more of the cause, but he was acting in a moment of reasonable temporary insanity. _

She finally accepted that she would not find the relief she sought, then twisted the knob to the off position, and whipped open the shower curtain. The bathroom had grown somewhat steamy, but most of the heat had exited though the hole that had placed in their bathroom door the night before. It was big enough to place one's head through, and it had removed any privacy between her and Ros.

_Note to self: get piece of cardboard to cover over hole in bathroom door. _

Luckily, her fuzzy pink bathrobe, which hung on the hook on the door, covered some of the hole, but not enough to block the view of Theon strutting across the living room naked.

"Theon," she sighed in defeat, as she knew that any attempt to change his behavior was a cause long-lost. "Could you please?"

"What?" Theon answered as he spun around and peered through the hole at Sansa.

"I don't know, maybe put some underwear on," Sansa suggested as she turned her body to the side and slipped the bathrobe on her damp body.

"Hey, I live here too...more or less," he weakly defended himself and Sansa was too tired to try to argue with him. After trying to calm down Ros about the hole in the bathroom door, and trying to convince Arya that Theon was in fact not a flying monkey trying to steal her credit card, she could not relax herself enough to get a peaceful night's sleep.

Sansa exited the bathroom, and quickly turned to her bedroom and changed into her work clothes: a black pair of slacks and a black button-up top, one that she thought went well with her green apron. There wasn't enough time to do her hair the way she wanted to so she quickly pulled it into a messy bun, then looked at her reflection in the mirror and shrugged.

_Good enough. _

"Your sister's psycho boyfriend owes us a new door," Ros yawned as she exited her room at the same time Sansa came out of hers.

"He's not psycho," Sansa said in defense of Gendry as she gathered her coat and purse for the day ahead.

"He fucking kicked in our door!" she yelled, which startled Theon, who was hungover from the night before, jolted and spilled some coffee on the floor. "I think the best word to describe that is a psycho!"

"Nah," Sansa disagreed as she bundled herself in her parka.

"Then what do you call it?"

"Love," she shrugged, and walked out of the apartment.

**A bit later at Starbucks**

"Venti sugar-free non-fat mocha latte" the man rattled out, punching each syllable aggressively, certain of each word.

"Umm, okay," Sansa stammered as she looked at the digital screen in front of her, forgetting if she had to put sugar free in first, or non-fat, or if it mattered. "One, venti, sugar free, non fat, umm," she whimpered, biting her bottom lip in thought.

"Mocha latte," the man droned in frustration, evidently lacking any patience for new girls at Starbucks.

"Yes, oh course...one of those coming right up," she said with a smile as she punched in what she thought was the right order, and marked the cup as best possible. Dennis stood behind her, and had luckily heard all the order. "Did you get all of that?" she whispered to him.

"Yeah, don't worry about, you'll get there," the tall man said with a smile, then took the cup from Sansa and began to brew the beverage.

"It'll be up in a minute!" Sansa said with a smile to the man in attempt to make up for a lack of coffee-making skills with spunk and enthusiasm. He didn't seem impressed, and looked down to his phone as he wandered to a table and impatiently waited for his drink. Besides the rude man, the day had thankfully had been slow, but a tad bizarre. Just a few college students quietly sipping lattes in the corner booth, across the way from the man dressed Frankenstein.

_He was very polite when he grunted an order for a coffee and a newspaper. _

Sansa suspected he had had a long Halloween and just decided to stop by a get some coffee. Everyone that entered stared at him as they passed. Some appeared displeased by his dress, others were flustered, many were amused. It was daring to just sit there and not give a damn, to not care that everyone stared and whispered about you, or that they were all judging you.

_I could never do that. _

Of course, Sansa was assuming she knew what the monster went though the night before. Sometimes she would make up stories about the people who came up to the counter wanting a drink or a muffin. The tall man with striking red hair was a part-time carny who had just parked his clown car outside. The woman with three children in tow, two of which were shrieking, was clearly thinking about her life choices. But the short man who just staggered in, his story was obvious; much like Frankenstein, his night ended in the morning and he was paying the price.

He couldn't have been much taller than Arya and his hair was thick and blond, and got curly in the back. He looked like a professional man, but was still causal, lacking a tie and wearing some khakis. He had obviously not shaved that morning as he had blond stubble on his chin.

_He must have decided that last night wasn't going to end until he passed out._

He stumbled to the counter and gawked for a moment at the menu above Sansa. He appeared to be in a trance, and Sansa decided the best course of action was to break it.

"Good morning!" she excitedly greeted him. "What can I get for you?"

He winced at her and dryly requested, "Less volume," and Sansa felt her smile vanish.

_Why am I getting all the grumpy people this morning?_

He must have noticed her change in demeanor, as his tone softened along with his expression. "Sorry, I had a long night. I'll have a vanilla latte."

"Oh! My favorite!" she squealed and clapped her hands, then tapped the information into the register.

"Mine too," he agreed and Sansa noticed his eyes graze up and down her body, stopping at certain areas longer than others. As he was...distracted...Sansa noticed how unique his eyes and entire face were. Across his face was a scar, faded against his pale skin, which started above his green right eye and went down past his brow, over the bridge of his nose, and ended under his left eye, which was sky blue. There was so much to his face. Most people had boring faces with no stories to tell. But his face, there was a story of the scar, a stories of his eyes, the story of the blond stubble under his chin. For a moment they pleasantly gawked at each other and enjoyed each others features, but Sansa grew self-conscious as his eyes lingered on her hips for a second longer than she liked.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"Umm, no thank you," he said, then reached for his wallet and handed her his credit card. After she ran his card she turned and marked the cup 'VL.' The man wandered to the side to wait for his drink and stared at her for another moment before his head lolled back and he looked to the ceiling, losing himself in his thoughts.

He began to rub his bloodshot eyes, and she thought that head had probably gotten drunk with some other professional men while sipping martinis at the some fancy bar, then discussed some important matters until early in the morning. She assumed. But, she didn't want to assume with him. She wanted to know.

"Long night?" she asked.

"Yeah...longer than usual."

"Used to long nights?"

He leaned in closer to her and left only a small space on the counter separating them, and his voice lowered as the conversation grew more private. "Afraid so."

"I had a long night too," she admitted to this...unconventional, yet dashing, stranger. "I had a small party with some friends and my bathroom door now has a hole in it."

"Was the hole made at least having a good time?" he asked with a sexy grin.

"Not really, just my sister being my sister."

This comment caught his attention and he gazed at Sansa for a long beat. As Dennis finished the man's latte, Frankenstein thumbed through the sports section, and everyone else went about their lives. But not Sansa. For her, it was just him in this moment as he looked at her with questioning eyes._"_And why do you put up with her?"_ h_e asked.

"Because I love her," Sansa blurted out without a second thought. It was the truth, but she didn't say it enough, most of all to Arya.

"Vanilla latte!" Dennis called and gave the finished product to the man.

"Thank you," he said with a nod Sansa. "I hope the next time a hole is made in a door at least some fun is had with it."

"Thanks?" Sansa replied, taken back by the statement, but was surprised to find she saw wisdom in it after some more thought. "Have a good day," she nodded her head, seeing from behind him Frankenstein approach the counter. She knew the monster had a proper name, a very memorable name, which he had told her when she asked before, but at the moment she couldn't put her finger on it.

"You too," the short man said as he turned and walked out. Before he exited, Sansa swore she caught him peeking over his shoulder at her.

"Hi," the monster droned as he walked up to the register. "Can I have another dark roast?"

"Certainly," Sansa said with a grin, which was more meant for the dashing short man that exited the shop. A dashing short man, a young Sansa would have never noticed like this.

_Then again, young Sansa was really stupid._

She prepared the new cup of coffee for the hulking giant, who had gray makeup on his face and fake crimson blood coated the plastic screws attached to his neck. All of this conflicted with the broad and true smile on his face. "I'm sorry, I know you mentioned it before, but what was your name?" she asked. He answered, but she didn't hear as she was looking at the man sitting alone at a table outside who appeared to be contemplating the world and all that was in it.

"Hodor!" the monster bellowed, shaking Sansa from her gaze.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh, excuse me," the man coughed as he cleared his voice. "My name is Cornelius Walder Hodor"

"Ohh, that's a nice name."

"Thank you very much," he said as he paid for his coffee and gave Sansa a nod. She nodded in return, but her eyes were still fixed on the man.

She usually didn't fixate on men like this...not any more at least...she had learned from experiences with sociopath blonds and tall dark brooding douche bags that she had considered swearing off men all together. But...him...the short messy-haired dashing blond, he was something else.

_Damn...and I forgot to get his name. _

**AN:**

**A few disclaimers about my story. **

**This is a companion piece to another story in the Arya/Gendry section called Misfits (or up, up, down, down). Both stories can be read on their own, but fall inside the same universe. For example, what Sansa hears from Arya's room is what happens in the first chapter of the other story. Moreover, Tyrion's POV of meeting Sansa at Starbucks is described midway through 'Misfits.' Also, in the other story I establish that Gendry is Robert Baratheon's son, and so is Edric, but that's it. Gendry, Robert, and Edric (Eddie in the story) are the only Baratheon men. Joffery is just a blond rich little asshole without a last name (and Renly will be a closeted college boy Sansa meets, but we'll get there later.)**

**My mind has swirled both the show and the books together and I will integrate stuff from both sources in this story. **

**In this modern AU, they aren't in Westros. To me, to do humor in a story like this, I have to be able to make some pop culture references, and to do that in 'Westros' doesn't work. They are in a place close to Winterfell...which would be Wisconsin. Also, because it is a Modern AU, there will be times characters would act differently then they would the source material – I chalk this up to the fact that people act differently in a medieval fantasy world then in modern-day Wisconsin. I'm trying to reflect what I see as the core of these characters in a modern setting. (Also, I changed Robb to Rob, and Catelyn to Caitlin, because I've actually meet 'Robs' and 'Caitlins')**

**Oh yeah, one other thing, this could be classified as a 'slow burn.' Partially because of the age difference and partially because they need some time to grow before they meet. However, thanks to the miracle of flashbacks, they'll be together on some level by the sixth or seventh chapter and we'll still explore their past. **

**Fuck that's a lot of disclaimers. Next time I promise no disclaimers. (Does that promise count as another disclaimer?)**

**The book Sansa is reading is the original text of the "Beauty and the Beast" by Jeanne-Marie LePrince de Beaumont. I bet it has never been placed in a story where the words 'baby batter' were written a few lines later. **

**Oh yeah, if you didn't guess already, I am not George R.R. Martin, but I am using his characters and some of his story. And he LOVES it so much that I'm writing this. **

**(Fans of Misfits – sorry for the lack of funny notes. Nothing came to mind, and as I've established before, you can't cram funny into a hole that doesn't want it. Which, again, is an old Amish saying.) **

**Next time: We learn more about Sansa's teenage years and Tyrion meets his latest client. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Part One (or unintended consequences)**

**Chapter One (or quick, but fulfilling)**

**September 19th, 1997 (or a day at high school)**

**Sansa **

"Fuck Sansa! You've been in there for twenty minutes now!" her sister screamed and impatiently pounded on the bathroom door. Sansa had only been in there sixteen minutes, and her business was very important.

"Arya! No yelling in the house!" Sansa heard their mother yell from the kitchen. The sound of her voice was muffled by distance and the closed-door, and it was apparent she didn't see the irony in yelling that statement.

"I need to brush my teeth!" Arya screamed back and the pounding stopped for a moment. Sansa shook her head at the closed bathroom door as she prepared for the day. The candy apple green eye shadow she got at Walgreens was difficult to apply well as it clumped on her eyelids instead of smoothly covering her skin. Joffery said last week he liked the color green, and since they had been going steady now for almost four days, Sansa needed the time to properly apply her newly found beauty product. It couldn't be too thick, or she'd look like a slut or a clown, but it had to be noticeable enough to catch Joffery's attention.

"Sansa!" Arya shouted again as she resumed her pounding. Arya yelling wasn't peculiar, but Arya yelling at Sansa to get into the bathroom was. Arya never rushed to go to school, even if she did enjoy it once she got there. Now that Arya was a freshmen, their mother had decreed that the sisters walk to school together. 'Like when Arya was in first grade,' their mother told them, as if that would sweeten the deal for either of them. So, it didn't matter when Sansa finished, because Arya couldn't leave the house without her without incurring their mother's wrath.

"Just another minute!" Sansa replied as she looked at herself in the mirror and decided she had achieved a satisfying look classy and cute, not slutty, look to please Joffery.

The door handle began to click and Sansa, bewildered, turned to the door as it opened. "Arya!" Sansa exclaimed as her sister made her way through the door.

"You took too freaking long!" Arya explained as she shook her head in annoyance, grabbed her toothbrush from the holder, and applied a minty gob of paste to it.

"How did you get in!?" Sansa demanded as she stared at the door, which she had locked herself. There wasn't any damage to the frame, and all Arya was holding when she came in was one of Sansa's bobby pins, bent out of shape.

Arya had already began to brush her teeth. When she answered, since she had her toothbrush jammed in her mouth, it sound like Charlie Brown's teacher, "Whaa-wha-wh-wha."

"Gross," Sansa remarked as she looked at the foam drizzling down her sister's lips.

With a mighty spit, Arya cleared her mouth, and turned to her sister. "I said, there's always a way in if you try," she said as she put her toothbrush back and handed her sister the wrecked bobby pin, and quickly exited the room without rinsing.

_How'd she pick the lock with a bobby pin? Where'd she learn that? I bet Jon taught her._

"Ugh," Sansa grunted, then closed the door behind Arya and examined herself in the mirror. Thankfully, Arya's intrusion didn't disturb her appearance, and she was still stunning. Besides the eye shadow, she also put on a light coat of lipstick, and took care to ensure that it wouldn't look clownish or slutty, and dusted on some blush to make her cheekbones pop. Sansa turned in the mirror and decided that her outfit for today was also a-maze-zing. Her new jean skirt, cut right below the knee, showed the perfect amount of leg, and her green v-neck top was so-o-o-o cute.

_I hope he'll like this...I think he will...what if he doesn't?_

As she shook her head in trying to rid herself of negative thoughts, Sansa made her way out of the bathroom, stopped at her room for her backpack, and went downstairs to a familiar scene in the household: Arya and their mother arguing.

"For real? You've got to kidding me! I'm fifteen years old for Christ's sake!"

"Don't take the Lord's name in vain young lady!" her mother lashed out in reprimand.

"It's just not fair! The high school is right down the street! I'm not going to get lost! I'm not going to skip! Why do I need a chaperone?!"

Sansa walked into the kitchen and saw the two woman warriors in combat; Arya stood with her backpack slung over her shoulder, her body filled with nervous and violent energy, and her mother calmly sat at the table, totally in control, and sipped on a coup of tea.

"Arya," her mother began as her blue eyes focused intently on her youngest daughter. "I just feel more comfortable if you and Sansa walk together for a while."

"How long is a while? I've been at school already for two weeks! I know it's walk five blocks and hang a right...nothing bad is going to happen!"

"Something might Arya, I just like knowing you're okay."

Sansa walked around her screaming sister to the kitchen cabinet and pulled out a granola bar to munch on before they left.

"Like knowing I'm okay?" Arya spat with bemusement, "like Sansa would help me out at all if I ran into any trouble."

"Hey!" Sansa interjected, offended that Arya thought she wasn't capable of protecting her little sister and was trying to drag her into this. She didn't like walking to school together anymore than she did.

"I'm walking down the street, I'm attacked by a bear, and as it rips into me, devouring my intestines, Sansa is totally gunna be useful," Arya barked, then narrowed her intense gray eyes at their mother. The disobedient rage that had always been present in her sister burned at their mother.

"Arya," her mother sighed with the same exasperated tone she always used with youngest daughter.

"Space aliens try to beam me for a through, and hopefully satisfying, probing, Sansa will totally save me."

"Arya!" her mother exclaimed, and Sansa just shook her head since she knew her sister wasn't done yet.

_I don't think she'll ever really be done. _

"A gang of cockney hoodlums accosts me and tries to give me the good ol' in and out... Sansa will just stand there telling them those are 'bad touches.'"

Her mother's head jolted at the last remark, the crassness pushing her too far. "Arya! That's enough! Now wait quietly until your sister is done with her breakfast or you'll be grounded for a week!"

Arya opened her mouth again to say something, but didn't, and as she closed her mouth it looked as though it caused her agony to not say anything else. The threat of being grounded was enough to quell the storm that was Arya Samantha Stark. "Ugh," she sighed, and stomped out of the kitchen towards the front door.

"She's unreasonable," Sansa groaned as she sat next to her mother.

"She's just upset," her mother sighed as she took a sip of tea. From her tone, Sansa knew there was much her mother wasn't telling her.

"Is it about Gendry?" Sansa asked as she continued to nibble on her granola bar.

"That isn't any of your concern," her mother sternly said. Sansa caught a glimpse of her stare out of the corner of her eye and knew it meant she should drop the subject. And her mother was right, it wasn't her concern, but she still noticed. She noticed her father had come home early from work yesterday and had a drink or two before dinner. She noticed her father tell her mother about Robert Baratheon. About him showing up to work and getting fired. About him abandoning his family, leaving Gendry and Eddie without a father, their mother without a husband. And she noticed Arya dart out of the house at eight at night and come back home far after curfew, looking flushed and elated.

_I hate noticing all these things that aren't my concern._

"Okay_, _mom," Sansa mumbled and did not look her mother in the eye as she didn't want to draw more attention she had asked that she should not have. She shoved nearly half the granola bar in her mouth and grabbed her backpack. "I'm going to get going."

"Have a good day, sweetie," her mother chirped as Sansa walked away. Although she didn't want to endure Arya's bad mood this morning, she was interested to find out more gossip about the juicy Baratheon situation, which Arya must have known more about.

Her sister stood at the front door in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for her sister. "Ready?" she spat as Sansa approached the door.

"Let's go," Sansa answered as she motioned to the door and then slipped on some sandals. Arya took the cue and whipped the door open for them to exit.

It was a brisk fall day in Grafton, Wisconsin, as they made their way down the sidewalk. Sansa liked their neighborhood; each house looked like the last, many had small white fences in the front yard, some had doghouses in the back, and the Henderson's even had an above ground pool. It was small and quiet, everyone kept to themselves, and all the children well-behaved. Except for Arya, of course. It would be a perfect place to raise a family some day.

"Urgh," Arya moaned as they moved in stride. Although neither sister liked this arrangement, over the last week or two they had made small talk on their way to school. Arya complained about her math teacher, and Sansa could sympathize, as she remembered how terrible 'Old Man Pycelle' was in Algebra. Sansa didn't understand Arya's discomfort with Mr. Baelish though, who always seemed very pleasant to her.

_I believe Arya's exact words were "he's a creepy little fuck." _

This morning, although Arya seemed to have a lot on her mind, and it had seemed to pain her earlier to not speak up to their mother, Arya was silent as she trudged towards school. "What's wrong with you?" Sansa asked in trying to make conversation, and maybe find out more about Gendry.

"Nothing," Arya shrugged and quickened to a pace that Sansa could barely keep up with in her skirt and flip-flops.

"Then what's the rush?" Sansa grunted as she shuffled and tried to keep up with her sister.

"Nothing," Arya lied again and rolled her gray eyes at her sister. It was clear she was trying to get away from Sansa, which was expressly against their mother's wishes.

"Nothing? You sure?" Sansa prodded again.

"Just...shut up," Arya sighed, looked at her watch, and slowed her pace, as it appeared she had decided she wouldn't be able to escape Sansa's pursuit.

"Worried about being late? School doesn't start until eight and we have, like, fifteen minutes."

"What did I just ask you to do?" Arya curtly replied as she darted her head back and forth, searching for something. As they continued to walk, they joined more and more teenage students on a similar trek to the Grafton Area High School.

"Looking for Gendry?" Sansa asked. She knew he lived on the other side of the school, and that he would be walking down the street towards them if they were going to meet.

"No," Arya grunted as she clearly lied to Sansa, again, then paused for a moment to stand on her tip-toes, to get a better view. "Fucking people," she sighed.

"Don't swear, Mom hates it," Sansa reminded her sister.

"And if I had a nickel for all the fucks I don't give on mom's thoughts on my swearing."

Sansa just rolled her eyes at her vulgar sister and wished their dirty minded step-brother hadn't taught her that kind of language. "Do you see him?" Arya suddenly asked a moment later as she craned her neck as high as it could go.

"Who? Gendry?"

"Of course, Gendry," Arya growled at Sansa. Using her superior height she peeked around the crowds and didn't see the boy in question, and shook her head at Arya as they continued to walk.

"Fuck, where is he, he was supposed to be here already."

"What's the big deal? Don't you two have first period together?" Sansa asked.

"Yeah, we do..." Arya muttered before trailing off.

"So, you'll see him there," Sansa suggested.

"Yeah, yeah..." Arya said without a thought, as her mind was now up the sidewalk, in search for her 'best friend.'

"Okay, what's up?" Sansa stopped in her tracks, and placed her arm in front of Arya, which impeded her forward movement. Arya's head cocked towards her sister after being knocked out of her daze.

"What?"

"Last night Mom and Dad are whispering about Gendry's dad, you leave in the middle of the night to go see him, I assume, and now you're fanatically searching for him."

"Well," Arya sighed, "it's complicated."

"Did Mr. Baratheon leave?" Sansa flatly asked Arya to cut through the complication.

With a huge exhale, that seemed to release some of the built up pressure of what Arya had kept in, she finally told the truth. "Yeah, last night Robert left his family last night." It made sense - when Sansa came home from school, Dad was on his second scotch and soda. His best friend abandoning his family would be a cause for a drink or two.

_And a fitting tribute to Robert Baratheon. _

"Is he coming back?" Sansa followed up.

"No idea," Arya shrugged and tapped her foot on the concrete, clearly ready to resume their journey to school.

"Where's he going?" Sansa asked, and Arya again shrugged. It seemed as if she had already said everything she knew about what happened with Mr. Baratheon.

"So, how's Gendry handling it?"

"Fucking poorly! How else would he 'handle it?'" Arya yelled, which drew the attention of two boys as they walked around the stalled sisters. "I get there last night and Gendry is alone in his living room, fucking drinking, his mom at work, little Eddie's upstairs sleeping already, tired out from asking questions about when 'Daddy will be back.'"

"Ohh," Sansa uttered, unable to think of anything else to say, the gossip turning from juicy to heavy for her tastes.

"He said he'd meet me in front of school, or would start walking towards our house if I didn't get there early." She paused and fixed an intense gaze on Sansa. "Thank you very much for that, by the way."

"Well, I'm sorry," Sansa half-apologized, "don't blame me, Mom's the one with the crazy rule." She then moved her arm up, allowing Arya to rush past, and dart around some slower upperclassmen. Sansa had never seen Arya like this. Well, maybe she had, Arya had a tendency to obsess and be fanatic about things, but this was the first time Arya had ever acted this way about a boy.

_I wasn't even sure Arya liked boys. Yesterday she was mumbling about swearing off men and becoming a crazy cat lady like Aunt Lysa. _

Sansa scurried around slower pedestrians until she caught up to Arya, who had suddenly stopped. "What?" she asked her sister, but then looked up to see Gendry, tall with a head of thick black hair, quietly standing in front of the school.

"Does he look okay to you?" Arya asked Sansa, concern evident in her voice.

"Umm," Sansa began to stammer, "I dunno." Arya grunted at Sansa's lack of insight and began to walk forward towards Gendry. Sansa followed closely behind, curious about what Arya would do when she got to there.

They walked briskly for a couple of seconds until Arya sensed her sister's presence beside her. "What are you doing?" she stopped to ask.

"Going to school," Sansa poorly lied. The entrance to the school closest to her first class was in the opposite direction, and she knew that Arya would know that.

"Well, you go there," Arya flatly explained to Sansa like she was three years old, and pointed to the door Sansa usually went though.

"It's a free country, I want to use the main entrance today," Sansa shrugged as she saw no reason to follow her little sister's orders.

"Okay, fuck it," Arya snarled, then reached into her jean pocket and brought out a wad of bills. "Here is, ummm" she mumbled, counting the money quickly, "seven bucks, for you to use the side door."

Sansa tilted her head at the seriousness of the bribe. Bribes had become the norm between the sisters in making arrangements. Usually, they were pretty cheap with each other, trying to low ball any deal, and there was at least a minute of haggling. Seven dollars was hardly a fortune, but Arya looked as though she would give Sansa any amount of money to use the side door and not see her talk to Gendry.

"Why?" Sansa asked. She knew she was breaking a part of the bribe in essence, but she wanted more information.

"He's my...friend...and I want some privacy," Arya whispered under her breath, and everything suddenly became clear to Sansa.

"Are you into him?!" she excitedly asked and clapped her hands together lightly in glee and elicited looks from curious passersby.

"Shut up!" Arya countered.

"You are aren't you! I mean, I always thought there was something between you two. I mean, he's pretty cute."

_Not cuter than Joffery, but he's cute in a dashing, dark-haired, stoic stranger kind of way. _

"I said shut up! Don't say that!" Arya screamed again, Sansa clearly hitting a nerve.

"What, you don't think he's cute?" Sansa asked her sister, who looked puzzled by the question.

"I...I..." Arya stuttered, "that's not the point. Can you just..." and she held out the wad of money and pointed her head towards the school. Arya had never had such a loss for words. It was earth shattering to see her sister like this, flustered and awkward, and wanting so badly to go be with a boy.

"Fine," Sansa agreed, grabbed the wad of cash, and stalked away from her sister. Sansa turned her head back and saw Arya, who was practically skipping to Gendry, a boy who, no matter what Arya said, wasn't just a friend.

**July 21****st**** 2003 (or a few months before 'that Halloween')**

**Tyrion**

The office of Lannister, Lannister, & Lannister was meant to inspire awe in incoming clients, and exude the strength and confidence of a mighty law firm. It had stood in the same towering red brick building for the last forty years and stood the test of time as the world shifted around it. To Tyrion's knowledge, the building across the street had been a bookstore, then a dentist's office, a chiropractor at some point, and was now vacant, and loomed empty against the might of Tywin Lannister.

Tywin Lannister, a skilled lawyer and a cunt of a father, had been the senior partner since his own father had retired over twenty years ago. Tyrion had never met his grandfather Tytos, but was told multiple times by Tywin that he had allowed the firm to go to ruin. Revenues were down, clients were leaving, and the firm's reputation was a disgrace to the entire family. It took Tywin ten years to rectify this. He took no prisoners, removed over two-thirds of the supposedly inept work force, and increased the case load of the firm two-fold. At the time he was only thirty years old, married with two eight-year-old twins, and was already the de facto ruler of the largest personal injury law firm in the state. The was no limit to what Tywin Lannister could do.

_Of course, then I was born. _

Tyrion had just finished a late lunch at a local Mediterranean restaurant down the street called Harren's Hall, a lovely place for an afternoon with a veritable smorgasbord of young University of Wisconsin – Madison coeds to view. Some came for lunch dates with their friends, others for the sweet Turkish coffee the establishment offered, and some delectable tarts even waited on Tyrion. One waitress in particular, with short brown hair, a wonderful frame, and an astonishing ass had caught Tyrion's eye several times.

_She was certainly worth the over-priced gyros._

"You're late," the receptionist remarked as he wandered into the lobby; a lavish room filled with long red leather couches and glass coffee tables piled with magazines for clients to read while they waited.

"Are you keeping tabs on me..."

..._I think this one is Wendy... _

"Wendy?"

"Wanda," she corrected and Tyrion shrugged, not interested in her name. Tywin would probably fire her by the end of the week for some 'grave' error she committed.

_"When you answered the phone you said 'good morning, Lannister, Lannister, and Lannister, this is Wanda, how can I help you?' and it was 12:04pm, which meant it was technically the afternoon!"_

"Your twelve-thirty appointment has waited for about an hour," Wanda informed him and pointed to a single woman sitting in the lobby. She leered at Tyrion for a moment, her brown eyes filled with disappointment at the young junior partner's behavior.

"Thank you," Tyrion thanked...Wanda...as he strode away from the front desk to the waiting area. His future client, whose name he did not know and regretted not getting from Wanda, was certainly worth his time. She sat on a couch and nervously chewed on her thumbnail as she paged through People magazine. She was short, not much taller than five foot two inches, which was Tyrion's height - something he liked in a woman. It meant fewer people staring if they went into public together. "Hello, there," he greeted her, "My name is Tyrion Lannister."

"Hi, my name is Sandra, Sandra Smith," she introduced herself as she rose from the couch and shook Tyrion's hand.

"Why don't you follow me," he offered and gestured down the hall. As they walked, he twice looked over his shoulder to catch a fleeting glimpse of her and noticed a few strands of long black hair dangling front of her low cut black blouse. "Here we go," Tyrion said as he opened the door to his office for her and made sure to catch a view of her ass as she swayed past.

"So, Mrs. Smith," Tyrion began as he strolled around his large mahogany desk and she took a seat across from him. "I'm sorry to hear you're getting a divorce."

"I'm not," she sighed wryly, "it's two years overdue." Her eyes, dark and intense, locked with his for a moment, and he fought the urge to squirm from her intoxicating gaze.

"Well, it isn't that complicated of a process," Tyrion said as he pulled out some papers and a yellow legal pad from his desk. "While you were in reception, did you fill out this form?" he asked presenting her with a sheet of paper from his desk.

"No," she shook her head, which briefly moved her gaze off of him; his pulse quickened when she looked back at him.

"Well, let's start here," he said as he grabbed a pen. "Let's see, current legal name?"

"Sandra Olivia Smith."

"I assume Smith is your husband's last name. Will you be taking your maiden name after the divorce is finalized? "

"Yes, I'll be changing my name back to Dilara."

"Okay, good," he hummed, unable to hold any veneer of professionalism as his eyes spent every moment he didn't have to look at the form soaking up her body. Her figure was a perfect hourglass and her black skirt rose midway up her creamy thighs and his mind immediately imagined the matching black lingerie she must have been wearing. He continued to asked her questions, her address, her occupation, and other such boring nonsense, and transcribed everything she said, without actually listening to a word she spoke, unable to take his mind off her tantalizing body.

"Let's see," he said after he took the rest of her personal information, "do you have any children."

"Thank God no," she snorted.

_Yes, thank God no. _

"Well, that's good," Tyrion snickered, unable to hold back his excitement at his piece of knowledge.

"Is it now?" she asked as she cocked an eyebrow. Her pouty red lips pursed just so, and her gaze seemed to double in intensity.

"Well yes," Tyrion coolly replied. "The process is far more complicated if children are involved, both legally and emotionally. Without children, the process is vastly more simple."

"Quick and easy?" she asked.

"Quick, but fulfilling," he countered with a grin.

"Just the way I like it," she purred.

"Good," was all Tyrion could think to mutter, and they sat in silence for a moment. He had never meet a client like this, one that got under his skin so easily.

"What's first?" she asked, breaking the silence.

_Probably throwing you on top of my desk. _

"Sorry, what was that?" Tyrion asked since he had missed the question since he was lost in his own sticky and deviant thoughts.

"What's the first step? In my divorce."

"Oh, well, Sandra..."

"Please, call me Shae," she corrected him and shifted in her chair, uncrossing her legs as she did so.

"Okay, Shae," he stammered as the force of the universe demanded him to look down to get a peek, but he forced himself to look into her pretty eyes. He knew exactly what was next: they would discuss more of her case, file with the state - all the messy details of a divorce. But he couldn't think straight. So he stammered, "Umm, the first step is I file some paperwork with the state and get the ball rolling."

"And then?"

"And then, we'll meet again next week to discuss matters further."

"Really now?" she asked, seeing through part of his ruse. In fact, they could probably hammer out most of the details right now, but that wasn't going to sit well with Tyrion. He wanted to see her again, and again, and again. It all couldn't end right now.

"Yes, it's normal procedure. It will take some time for the state to get back to me. In the meantime, I'll contact your husband's lawyer, serve them some paperwork, and we'll get moving on that front as well."

Five minutes later Shae left his office after leaving Tyrion her husband's personal information so he could begin the paperwork. Tyrion was unable to tear his eyes away from her ass as she sauntered down the hallway. Never before had he looked forward to a 9:30am meeting before, but with her there, he was certainly willing to rise to the occasion.

**3:46pm (or a little bit later)**

It was difficult for Tyrion to concentrate after Shae left; all of her wonderful curves filled his every waking thought. He couldn't help but imagine swimming over her creamy thighs, grazing her smooth skin, indulging in everything that she offered. She was perfect in so many ways, her long black hair, her skin, her smile, her eyes, and her attitude. Nothing Tyrion said disgusted her, but it excited her. She not only seemed to indulge Tyrion's outright sexual advances, but enjoyed them.

_Maybe that fantasy of fucking a client will finally come true. _

So many women had came through his office. So many desperate and sexy women that Tyrion was ethically bound from touching. It had crossed his mind, but he knew he was only allowed to look but not touch. With Shae though, the idea of not touching her seemed to unreasonable. It didn't seem fair that he couldn't just have her.

As he sat in his chair and spun in a daze, the intercom in his phone buzzed, which knocked Tyrion out out of his happy stupor. "Hello?" he answered.

"Mr. Lannister would like to see you in his office," the voice said over the phone. He knew the voice, it was the voice of his father's senior assistant - senior because Tywin deigned it necessary to have three assistants.

_Fuck me. _

With a deep sigh, Tyrion grunted, "Yes, I'll be right there." He was tempted to lie, to say he was busy working a case, but that would only lead to a worse lecture in the future. His father calling him in had become an annoying reoccurring event for Tyrion and usually involved his father droning on about Tyrion's work load, and Tyrion valiantly trying not to make jokes about the phrase 'work load.'

Tyrion strutted out of his office and made his way down the hall, which was carpeted in red, and the walls were adorned with various awards the firm had accumulated over the years.

**State Bar of Wisconsin: Attorney of the Year 1991 - Tywin Lannister**

**Madison Area Chamber of Commerce: Law Firm of the Year 1989 – Lannister, Lannister, & Lannister**

**Lions Club of the Greater Madison Area: Person of the Year 1987 - Tywin Lannister. **

_The National Asskissers of America: Wisconsin Branch award for douchebaggery and coercion of organizations to give a undeserving prick stupid awards – Tywin Lannister!_

The worst part of walking down to his father's office was staring at the stupid trophies of Tywin's glory, the most disgusting of which was located in his office. His framed article from the Madison Times. **"Law Firm Tarbeck and Rayne Declares Bankruptcy."**

_Which is of course silly for him to frame that in his office, like he had anything to do with it. Because if he did, not only would it be unseemly, whatever he did would probably be illegal. And of course my father had nothing to do with it._

Tyrion reached his father's large, wooden door. The door knob was coated in gold and the door bore a large gold name plate with bold red lettering, which seemed to glare at Tyrion.

**Tywin Lannister, Esq. **

The youngest Lannister reached for the door and began to turn the knob, but stopped midway, as if his hand was unwilling to finish the task.

_Nope, can't do this sober. _

He turned away from his father's door then looked down the hall. When he saw there was no one there, he walked into the bathroom across the hallway. The bathroom was garish: it was the one his father chose to shit in, so it had to be fit for man of his importance. The floor with gold and red tile, the sinks were shining white with golden fixtures attached to them.

_They aren't really gold, just some cheap golden chrome. Tywin may love his gaudy ass bathroom, but he is also a cheap fuck. _

The lavatory seemed empty and Tyrion ducked his head down to see under the three stalls in the large bathroom, to ensure he wasn't missing anyone. He walked to the handicap stall, which was furthest from the entrance, and closed the door behind him. He took a deep breath, reached into his pocket, and took out a small circular object made of green transparent plastic. It had seven flaps on the top, each marking a different day of the week, and Tyrion's finger grazed the top of each day as he looked at the contents of each compartment and contemplated his options.

_Let's see...I don't want to get that fucked up...Xanex sounds good._

He flipped open the Thursday tab, grabbed two pills, and popped them into his mouth without a second thought. Just the feeling of the pills sliding down this throat eased his tension – he knew that even if they didn't kick in during the meeting, he could spend the next couple of hours in his office peacefully musing on Shae's inner thighs. Hopefully though he'd fell it immediately, because with his mind between her thighs, he could handle Tywin easily.

His father's office was large, as would be excepted, and was lined with bookshelves of large tomes on law, culture, and whatever else Tywin thought would look impressive. Between two of the shelves, in an ornate golden frame was a newspaper clipping. Tyrion couldn't help but look at it for a moment, and sighed in disgust as he walked past.

His father sat at his desk and did not look up from what he was reading. "Busy?" Tywin asked, noting Tyrion's delay in arrival.

"Yes," Tyrion flatly answered as he took a seat across from his father. They shared the same blond hair, but Tywin had began to bald. Tywin, with his slender frame, towered over people, which was at odds with Tyrion's squat frame.

"What did you want?" Tyrion asked and his father raised his index finer, indicating he was not ready for them to talk. Tyrion groaned under his breath and drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.

"Don't do that," his father ordered without looking up, which elicited another groan from Tyrion. A few more seconds passed until Tywin finished his reading, or deemed it time to begin speaking to Tyrion. "I wanted to talk to you about your work load."

_Do not laugh at the words 'work load.' You are a professional. You can do this. _

"Do you have a problem with my load?" he asked his father and found himself unable to hid his grin at his double entendre.

"According to this," he said, nodding at the piece of paper he was reading when Tyrion entered, "you currently are working on only three cases."

"Too many strong marriages in the area," Tyrion shrugged.

"According to the records, you have rejected four cases this week." Tywin continued as he ran his finger across a line on the page.

"They weren't my type."

"They're are paying clients, that's your type." Tywin growled. "This is a personal injury law firm; the fact you are even handling family law is because I allow it."

"Well, thank you for that, Father. I'll work to increase my load," Tyrion said with a smile, and hoped that this simple exchange would suffice. "And if that is all, I think I'll be on my way," Tyrion said as he stood up and began to walk to the door.

"Sit down," Tywin ordered.

"Is there another problem?" Tyrion asked as he stopped moving, but refused to sit.

"My problem is with you Tyrion," he hissed at at his son. "It's with you wasting company time and money. It's with you acting in a manner that does not befit this law firm."

"That sounds like a matter for human resources. Maybe you should have Cersei give me a call," Tyrion suggested. He immediately regretted this, as the idea of talking to his sister was more repulsive than talking to his father.

"Maybe I will," Tywin responded in a veiled but futile threat to fire Tyrion.

"Maybe you should," he responded with a smug smile. They never spoke of it, but there was very much an understanding of Tyrion's employment. Although he barely brought in any money to the law firm, no big clients, no big cases, he was a very skilled lawyer who could go elsewhere. Tywin allowed him to practice family law so Tyrion didn't leave the firm. Of course, Tyrion didn't want to go anywhere else, because at any other law firm his family name wouldn't be on the door, and he would be excepted to act like an actual lawyer. So, they were again at an impasse.

"Don't tempt me," Tywin responded as his gaze sharpened on Tyrion.

"Why not? Would I really be missed? I could go somewhere else, where I'd be more appreciated."

"And what?" his father laughed, "actually work for a living?"

"Don't think I won't," Tyrion responded, as it was his turn to shoot an empty threat. He wouldn't, of course, as he enjoyed the comforts of his father's law firm, but that was his only recourse at the moment.

"No you won't," Tywin retorted. "The only way you'll leave this firm is when I fire you."

"Then call Cersei, I'm sure she'll want a part in destroying my contract."

"You need to take this seriously," Tywin said as he rose from his chair and walked around to his son. "Just because your name happens to be on the front door doesn't mean you can do as you please. I doesn't mean you can disrespect this law firm, and it doesn't mean you can make sexual advances on prospective clients."

"What?!" Tyrion exclaimed as he cocked an eyebrow.

"Wanda at the front desk told me you were leering at your newest client earlier today, and another employee told me you were ogling her on her way out."

"That's not what happened at all," Tyrion snorted, hiding his displeasure that his obsessive gaze was noticed.

"I put up with a lot Tyrion, but to act like that with a client is not acceptable," his father decreed as he walked back to his chair. "Your actions have consequences that impact the entire firm. Your indiscretions are not acceptable. Do you understand?"

Tyrion felt his blood being to boil, furious he had been noticed earlier, and that the Xanex had yet to sink in. Worst of all, he had lost to his father, again. To further the fight would be useless: his father was king of this castle, master of his domain, and it was pointless to argue with him. Submission, unfortunately, was the easiest way out.

"Of course," Tyrion grunted through his clenched jaw and mustered all the politeness he could to say, "It won't happen again. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Without looking up his father coldly answered, "No." Tyrion felt his hand clench and his gaze burned through his father, who no longer acknowledged his existence.

_ Is this the rest of my life? Taking orders from this prick? _

With a quick turn, he walked out of the office. He passed a few people walking down the hallway on his way back to his office. Some stopped to say hello and make small talk, but Tyrion simply walked by them until he came to his office and slammed the door behind him.

In his office he paced like a lion in a cage, locked up for all to mock, its owner pocking and prodding whenever he pleased. It had always been like this and Tyrion had always taken it. There was always a snide comment here or there, but he allowed his father to treat him like like a child. He couldn't take this any more...he wouldn't take this anymore.

_Tywin Lannister doesn't own me. He doesn't own shit. _

With a sure stride he made his way back around his desk, and reached for a manila folder from earlier in the day. He looked at the document and punched nine numbers into his phone.

"Hello?" Shae answered through the phone line.

"Yes, hello, it's Tyrion Lannister," he said as he slowed his breathing in an attempt to calm himself, to sound cool and collected.

"Oh, hello there. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you were free tomorrow evening for dinner?"

"Dinner?"

"Yes, I find it useful to get to know my clients outside of the office, so we can further discuss your case." There was a pause as she thought, clearly not comfortable with this. She had every right to think so. It was highly unethical...fuck, even illegal...for an attorney and a client to meet romantically, which they both knew this was.

_But I thinks she wants that. I think she craves it. I know I do. _

"I guess so." she huskily sighed over the phone.

"Seven work for you?" Tyrion offered.

"Sure."

"Good, I already have your address, so I'll swing by your apartment at seven to pick you up."

"Sounds good."

"Yes, it is does, " Tyrion agreed, then hung up the phone as a satisfied smile crept across his face. He finally felt the Xanex creep into his system and calm his nerves, which removed the taint of his father from his mind and replaced it with vivid images of things to come.

**AN:**

**The Lion's Club is a real thing – it was a wonderful pun I just had to use.**

**Arya has fun initials if you use the full name I gave her. Also the last name I gave Shae is a wonderfully deviant Easter egg if you want to go digging (super, duper, duper NSFW. Two dupers means how serious I am).**

**Again, Joffery isn't a Baratheon, or a Lannister, just an evil little fuck. Originally there was a scene with him in this chapter put I didn't like it. Don't worry though, you'll get 'Joffed Off' enough next chapter...speaking of which.**

**Next Time – we see a Lannister family dinner and Sansa faces a difficult choice with Joffery in Chapter Two (or I don't even open my eyes in the pool).**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 (or I don't even open my eyes in the pool)**

**November 12th 1998**

**Sansa**

It was a Stark tradition that each Thursday night was 'family spaghetti night.' Her mother said that it was not mandatory but it would be a fun time for family bonding...that everyone had to attend...she called this 'fundatory.' It was hard for her children to agree on most things but they could agree on their hate of the word 'fundatory.' The dinner had changed over time, and with Jon and Rob both away at college, the table was much more quiet now. Normally, Rob and their father would talk about sports. Sansa would tell her mother about her exciting news; what Margaery wore earlier that day at school, what Joffery said, what clothes Sansa was going to wear tomorrow. Meanwhile, Jon, Bran, and Arya usually huddled near the end of the table discussing movies, or video games, or stupid rock bands, or whatever they wanted to talk about.

Now that the dinner table was barren of the older siblings, their conversations lacked. Arya and Bran still chatted some but their mother discouraged it and said they should share with the family. Sansa still tried to share all the details with her mother but found it increasingly difficult to omit important information.

"Do you have any plans for this weekend, Bran?" their mother asked.

"Oh, me and a couple of the guys are going to go rock climbing," Bran causally responded. He probably hoped if he was calm about doing something like rock climbing his mother would be too.

There was a long pause as their mother looked across the table at her son. Their mother sat confidently at the table in a green blouse that set off her long auburn hair. She squinted at her youngest son, her brow furrowed, and she was clearly displeased with the answer. "Okay...just, be careful," she said after a pause. It was clear she didn't enjoy the words that came out of her mouth, but lately she had allowed her children more freedom.

"I know Mom," Bran groaned, annoyed with her over-protection, but said no more, as if to not push his luck.

"Sansa, what plans do you have for this weekend?" her mother asked as she carefully twirled spaghetti around her fork and delicately placed it into her mouth.

"Umm-m-m-m," Sansa wearily answered, unsure hot to best lie to her mother.

_You aren't lying. You're just omitting a few facts. There's a difference...totally._

"You're 'umm-m-m-m-ing' this weekend?" Arya asked in a snarky voice as she plopped a limp pile of noodles into her mouth and sucked a few straggling pieces up through her lips. Sansa groaned in annoyance, much like Bran with their mother. Well Bran's annoyance was because of over-protection, Sansa's annoyance was created by a lost opportunity and disappointment.

Sansa's little sister was supposed to blossom into a young lady that could gossip with Sansa while they flipped through magazines, painted each others nails, and braided each others hair. But what Sansa had in a little sister was still an uncouth little deviant, wearing a black sweatshirt over a black tank-top, and a messy unkempt head of hair.

"No," Sansa answered coldly. "Joffery and I are going to the dinner and are going to the movies afterward." Forcing a smile after the lie was the hardest part for Sansa. She was unable to look at her mother since she knew she would see right through the deception, so she had to stupidly stare at Arya.

"That sounds nice," Cat hissed and clenched her jaw. Her mother used to be fond of Joffery. She knew his parents from church and told Sansa he was a 'smart, sharp-looking boy.' Things took a turn after she found out that Joffery regularly held parties at his family's house when his parents were out and heard the vicious, ghastly, false rumors that Joffery was caught drinking and driving multiple times.

_He was only caught once. And he had to have that drink for his friend or else it would have spoiled. _

"How's Gendry doing?" her father asked Arya sincerely. Since Gendry's father left, Ned Stark would tend to ask this about once a week. Although Ned did not try to become a surrogate father for the Baratheon boys, Gendry and Eddie, he did head over to their house now and then to help out with household chores. Just last week he helped Gendry's mother patch a hole on the roof. To Sansa's knowledge, Robert and Willow Baratheon were on their way to divorce since Robert was living over a hundred miles away in Chicago, but still sent money home to his former family.

"He's doin' okay," Arya would always answer with a shrug. It had been over a year since Mr. Baratheon left and every week when asked about his son, Arya would say he was doing was okay. It wasn't a 'lie' so to speak, Gendry was doing okay, all things considered. When he was with Arya, Sansa knew damn well he was doing better than okay.

"How about you, Arya?" her father asked his daughter, who was munching on a slice of garlic bread and had crumbs and marinara sauce messily dripping from her lips.

"Oh nothing too exciting," she answered and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Gendry and I are probably going to see a movie or something on Saturday once he's off work." Her parents traded a knowing glance and Bran smirked a little as he sipped from his glass of water. Arya had been dating Gendry for some time now but had yet to admit to her family, or maybe even herself. Arya's nights were spent with the boy talking the phone, spending time at his house 'studying', or spent time together in her room (with the door open at least a 'crack' of course per their mother's request). However, she still had him over when their parents were out, and on multiple occasions, Sansa had caught her and Gendry making out in her when they thought they were alone in the house. She saw them writhing around on her bed, their limbs snaking together, and more than once she even saw her sister and Gendry without their shirts on.

_It's just unseemly...improper...terrible. Them laying on her bed together, kissing, and holding each other. His hands softly brushing her hair and massaging her back. It was just...everything I want. _

Her sister wouldn't even say the word 'boyfriend,' but yet she unjustly had this handsome young man willing to take her out to a dinner and a movie and then ravage her with intense 'studying.' It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair at all. Arya's hair was short, and dirty sometimes, she barely even combed it. She didn't wear nice clothes. She didn't even wear girl clothes, usually just sweaters and t-shirts in men's size small. She liked all these weird things like Star Wars and wouldn't stop talking about some stupid TV show about a vampire slayer. She swore, she didn't do her nails, she didn't want to go to dances, it was like she barely wanted to be a girl! What could Gendry possible see in her? Why, when he looked at her, did his eyes light up and a stupid, mindless smile crawl across his face?

_And why can't the same thing happen when Joffery looks at me? _

Sansa didn't like her deep-seated jealous of her sister and knew deep...deep...down she was actually happy to see Arya and Gendry together. It was just things with Joffery had become more complicated lately. After two years of dating they still didn't have the spark that she saw between Arya and Gendry. She and Joffery had been going steady for a while but then he wanted to 'take things more seriously.' At first Sansa was overjoyed at this notion. She instantly made plans that involved Joffery properly meeting her parents, of holding hands in public, of sharing milkshakes together, with two straws of course, so they could both sip at the same time. She would prefer strawberry but would be okay with chocolate if that's what Joffery preferred. Or maybe some day she dreamed of him giving her a promise ring so they could be properly pre-engaged. After he told her that he wanted to 'take things more seriously' though, his hand slipped on her thigh and slithered up further than ever before. And when she looked into his eyes she knew he did not have milkshakes on his mind.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to...do that. She of course knew how it worked. The man put his...you know...it the woman's...you know. But, they had been together for almost two years. But maybe that's what would finally light the spark she wanted. Maybe that would make Joffery give her the same look that Gendry gave Arya. That look Sansa wanted to so badly. She should have gotten it by now if there was any fairness in the world. Her mother wouldn't approve, but...Joffery was worth it. That spark was worth it.

**July 22****nd**** 2003**

**Tyrion**

The Golden Tooth was the finest dining in Madison area. It was a large black building with huge tinted windows framed in gold. The awning over the entrance was black with gold trim, the table cloths black with gold trim, and the wait staff wore black button up shirts with gold buttons. Even the bathroom had black and gold tiles. It was wonderfully pretentious restaurant for the area, where the people certainly had money, but didn't want to flaw it. It's where Tyrion took the women he had plans for. And he certainly had plans for Shae.

"You look lovely tonight," Tyrion complimented her as they sat down across from each at a small table. Her long black hair flowed over her shoulders onto the short, sleek green dress she wore, with a glorious plunging neckline that left little to Tyrion's active imagination.

"Thank you. And you look very handsome," Shae said with a slight giggle as she batted her big brown eyes at Tyrion. He did dress up for the occasion, and had even worn a skinny red tie into work today with his formal white shirt and black trousers.

"Can I start you off with any drinks?" the young short, yet busty, blonde waitress asked.

Tyrion nodded to Shae, indicating she could go first. He found that women usually loved it when he did this. "Let's see," she mumbled as she looked down at the drink menu with uncertainty. "I'm not sure."

"I could make a suggestion if you want," the girl said with a smile.

"Ohh, I'm not sure..." she said as she began to chew on her right thumb nail, a nervous habit Tyrion had quickly picked up on. "What do you think I should get?" she asked, looking up at him.

Without any hesitation he answered. "We'll both have the Pinot Noir and for our main course we will both be having the tenderloin, with the broccoli, not the baked potato."

Shae cocked her head at Tyrion's decisive action and slyly grinned. The waitress looked to her, looking for confirmation, to which gave her a smile and a nod. "Okay, I'll go put that in for you."

"Thanks," Tyrion said to the blonde, but did not look away from Shae. "I hope you don't mind me taking the liberty."

"Not at all. I like a man who knows what he wants."

"Do you now?"

"Absolutely. In fact, if my oaf of a husband actually made a decision once in a while, I wouldn't be here with you right now."

Normally Tyrion thought it would be a faux pas for a woman to mention her ex-husband at dinner with a different man, but considering Tyrion was her divorce attorney, oddly it was the easiest topic for small talk.

"Why don't you tell me a little about him?" Tyrion asked. "Unless, of course, you feel uncomfortable with it."

"Sadly, there isn't much to tell. We met four years ago and when he asked me if I wanted to get married I stupidly said yes."

"And besides saying yes...what went wrong?"

"Nothing went wrong, nothing went right. It was just bland. There wasn't any spark. It was like waking up every morning and eating oatmeal for breakfast. It wasn't bad, but it really wasn't much of anything."

"And oatmeal bored you?"

"It didn't excite me. And it didn't excite him either. And we just drifted apart."

"So...you're looking for excitement?" Tyrion asked with a grin.

"I guess I am," she said returning the smile.

"Here we go," the waitress said as she reappeared with two dark glasses of wine, and daintily placed them on the table.

"Thanks," they both muttered at the same time as she turned and walked away again.

Tyrion sniffed the fruity wine. It had faint floral aroma with a whiff of freshly picked cherries. "Like it?" he asked his date as she slowly sipped the wine.

"Mmm," she moaned, her pink lipstick staining the glass slightly.

"Good, I aim to please," h said with a smile as his mind began to scurry for ideas to support small talk. "So, if I remember correctly, you work as a receptionist at Delta Dental in town."

"I do."

"And how did you end up there?"

"Oh, it's a job. I just ended up there," she sighed wistfully.

"You didn't have a say in the matter?"

"I did I guess. But truthfully, it was just a place that was hiring after high school that liked my smile."

"Heh," Tyrion chuckled at the dental pun. "You never wanted to go to college? Do anything else with your life?"

"Not really an option. My family didn't have any money. Dad's a chef in town and mom wasn't around. And I'm just smart enough to realize I'm not smart enough to get through college anyways."

"I doubt that. I have a feeling you usually get what you want if you put your mind to it."

"Maybe," she grinned at him and took another sip of wine. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"How did you end up as a lawyer?"

"Well, if you hadn't noticed, my last name is on the door of where I work. My brother is a lawyer, dad's a lawyer, his dad was a lawyer. Every Lannister is a lawyer or employed by one. I didn't have any options."

"So you had to be a lawyer?"

"No, I didn't have to be a lawyer. I just had to be a lawyer if I wanted to reap any of the benefits of my rich family."

"So your parents forced you into it?"

"No...my mother died when I was young. It's just been my dad."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be," he lied. "I never knew the woman. She just gave birth to me and had bad luck."

"Ohh," Shae sighed, looking away from Tyrion, uncomfortable with the casualness with the subject. Tyrion spent his life facing the death of his mother and knew very well of the matricide he committed with his birth. He was oddly comfortable in the familiar numbing agony the thought caused him.

"Did you know for every one-hundred-thousand births, at least ten women are just as unluckily as my mother was?"

"Ohh," Shae said again, awkwardly scratching her forearm, unable to look Tyrion in the eye.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "Sometimes I'm terrible at small talk."

"It's okay. I understand. My mom didn't die, but she wasn't around. I know what it's like to make people feel uncomfortable with something you deal with on a daily basis."

"It's the worst isn't it?" Tyrion asked with a smirk. "You're just living your life and they have to suffer watching you do so. And we just ruin everyone's day."

A devious grin came across her face at that comment and a twinkle entered her eye. "To making other people uncomfortable," Shae said with a smirk, lifting her glass in a toast.

"Here, here," Tyrion added as they tipped their glasses together.

**November 14th 1998**

**Sansa**

"Don't worry. My parents are going to be out late," Joffery assured Sansa as she entered his house. His family came from money, so it was a lovely house with five bedrooms and three bathrooms, including a jacuzzi hot tub in the his parent's master bathroom.

"You sure?" Sansa nervously asked as she hung up her coat on the chrome coat rack in the main hallway. The main hallway lead to the his father's den on the left, the sitting room on the right, and kitchen was at the end of the hall. Sansa knew every inch of this house by heart. Sometimes when she would come over and she would claim to go to the bathroom but explore areas she had not seen. Once she explored his father's den, which was more of a library. The brown oak shelves were lined with books: novels, encyclopedias, dictionaries, anything and everything Sansa would ever want to read. She dreamy of grabbing a musty old tome from one of the shelves and curling up next to the fire place in the sitting room. When she suggested she and Joffery spend a lovely winter day like that together, he responded less positively than Sansa hoped.

_ I believe his exact words were "Pfft, why'd I want to do that? That's fucking gay." _

"When did you say your parents would get back?" Sansa asked for the second time in the last minute. This time she hoped to get a more definitive answer than 'late.'

"You worry too much," Joffery answered with a groan. She didn't want to annoy him, considering how big the night was going to be for both them. He looked cute and trustworthy with a dark forest green Ralph Lauren polo and some straight-fitting black jeans. The top accentuated his jade eyes and golden hair marvelously and the pants perfectly framed his cute little bottom.

"I just wanted to make sure we didn't get interrupted. That's all," Sansa explained as she followed him into his house. Knowing it was a big occasion she dressed up in her favorite winter time outfit. It was a sky blue turtleneck cotton sweater and a matching blue skirt with a ribbed hem. Her mother hated the dress, saying the skirt crept up higher than she was acceptable for a young girl. Fortunately for Sansa, she had a younger sister who gladly distracted their mother as Sansa left for a small sum of only five dollars.

_I would pay Arya millions of dollars if it meant I got to wear this dress on this night. This perfect magnificent night. _

"You look sexy tonight," Joffery complimented as he led her into the kitchen, barely able to keep his eyes off of her.

"You too," Sansa softly replied, with a excited giggle, barely able to contain her bliss.

"Did you want something to drink?"

"Sure. Could I have a glass of water?"

"Water? Fuck that shit," Joffery laughed, shaking his head at Sansa. "My parents were kind enough to buy a six pack of wine coolers earlier this week." Joffery reached into the large steel refrigerator and brought out two bottles and offered one to Sansa.

"...Thanks," Sansa sad as she took the bottle, which felt cold and surprisingly heavy in her hand. Her hand fumbled with the top, trying to twist it off and mimic what she saw adults do. "Come on," she furiously grunted and felt the metal teeth rip into her flesh.

"Here," Joffery growled and ripped the bottle out of her hand. He wrapped his hand around the bottle and twisted off the top. Sansa thought back to her father gallantly removing bottle caps for her mother, an act that was practically the same as a knight covering a mud puddle with his cape for his lady.

"Thank you," she giggled, taking back the opened beverage as Joffery lazily threw the cap into the garbage can sitting under the sink. The bottle was cool on her lips as the pink 'Sun Peak Peach' slipped down her throat, sweeter than she expected, and her skin began to pleasantly glow as the liquor seeped into her system. "Yummy," she moaned, smacking her lips in pleasure, pleased that Joffery, or at least his parents, picked a delectable drink for her.

"Too fucking fruity," Joffery groaned after his sip, and proceeded to dump the entirety of his drink down the sink. "Now, here's the shit," he smirked as he stood on his tip-toes as he opened a cabinet above the refrigerator and brought down a bottle of brown liquid.

"What's that?" Sansa asked.

"This is Jim Bean. And it's the fucking shit," Joffery announced emphatically. He placed the large bottle to his lips and tipped the bottle back so that some of the liquid flowed into the back of his throat.

"Urgh!" he coughed, spitting up some of the liquor he brazenly threw back a second ago.

"You okay?" Sansa asked, rushing to her knight's side who had just been poisoned by his own ale.

"Yeah," he coughed has his hand smacked the linoleum counter top. "I'm okay."

"Ohh, good," Sansa whimpered as she slowly rubbed his back in small circles.

"Did you want some?" Joffery offered, unable to stop his coughing.

"Umm, no thank you," Sansa declined lightly and watched her love spit up the rest of the brown liquor.

**July 22****nd**** 2003 (or still at dinner with Shae)**

**Tyrion**

"Enjoying the beef?" Tyrion asked Shae as she sliced into her cut of meat.

"Yes. It's incredibly tender," she answered. "My husband never took me anywhere this nice."

"That's a shame. How'd the two of you meet?"

"Ohh, he was having his wisdom teeth removed and actually thought he had a chance with the single receptionist at the dentist's office."

"Well he was right," Tyrion chuckled.

"He was," Shae groaned, her tone and demeanor full of regret. Even with her melancholy expression she was still unfathomably sexy. She had pouty full lips, and her hair tumbled over her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," Tyrion apologized for the second time that evening. "We shouldn't talk about your husband."

"We shouldn't?"

"It doesn't feel...proper." Tyrion suggested.

"I don't know much about you, but I think you don't give a damn about what is, or isn't, proper."

"You might be right," Tyrion said with a smirk as he took a sip of his wine.

"No, I am," Shae said with certainty.

"And why do you say that?" Tyrion asked.

"I don't think any of the services you have offered so far as my attorney have been proper."

"I haven't done anything truly against the rules," Tyrion countered.

_Yet. _

"And what exactly do the rules say about a relationship between a client and her attorney?"

"The rules state it is highly improper. If anyone at Lannister, Lannister, and Lannister were to find out, I would be immediately terminated. Even if I am a Lannister."

"Is that all?"

"No, I could possibly be disbarred," Tyrion added, truthfully unsure of the that part, but knew the punishment would be severe.

"So, why I'm I here?" Shae asked.

"Huh?" Tyrion answered her question with one of his own.

"You took me to a restaurant on the opposite side of town from where you work because if we got caught it would be catastrophic for you."

"True," Tyrion said and leaned over the table. "But it is also quite tasty."

"Yes, it is," Shae agreed. "But are you willing to risk your career over something that is...tasty?"

"Possibly," Tyrion enigmatically replied. "Now, I have a question for you."

"And what's that?"

"You accepted my invitation here tonight and you seem very aware the type of man I am. So, why are you here?"

Shae leaned in over the table so only inches separated their faces. "Because I just spent the last four years married to a man I couldn't stand. Because I haven't had fun in the last four years. And because, in the last four years I haven't had sex that I enjoyed or that I didn't regret having."

"And how exactly should we rectify this?"

"Simple. You pay for this overpriced meal and we go back to my place and do something that I'm pretty sure we'll regret..." Shae leaned her head in closer and blew into his ear. "...but at least we'll enjoy."

Tyrion darted his head away and began to scour the room for their waitress. "Excuse me!" he nearly shouted as she came into view.

"Save any room for desert? Our special tonight is strawberry cheesecake."

"No thank you," Tyrion said sternly. "Can we have the check please? We are in a bit of a rush."

**November 14th 1998 (or still at Joffery's house)**

**Sansa**

The last hour had been a blur for Sansa. One moment they were in Joffery's kitchen and the next they were in his bedroom. The peach drink Joffery gave her earlier in the evening had certainly effected Sansa strongly as she felt the world become fuzzy and her head became heavy and warm. It was convenient though, because Joffery's sheets were also fuzzy and warm. They were soft blue linen, a shade of blue Sansa adored, and thought it was a fitting place for the beautiful act of consummating their love. And Joffery was in a rush to consummate. His hands rapidly roamed over her body, slipped up her top, and pinched and squeezed her flesh on the way to her chest. It didn't feel bad...Joffery's touches never felt _bad..._it just wasn't what Sansa excepted. In truth, she didn't know what to expect and enjoyed his warm fingers...somewhat.

"Can you take your bra off?" Joffery asked gruffly as his thumbs fumbled on her back.

"Sure," Sansa murmured, leaned her body off the bed, and slid the bra down under her shirt. His hand instantly attached to her exposed breast and began to kneed it like he was a baker.

"Oh, yeah," he moaned as his finger's pinched and clamped at her.

"Oh...yeah," Sansa responded as she closed her eyes and tried to drift away. She tried to drift to a another place. A place that made more sense. She wasn't sure how Belle and the Beast made love after he turned back into a charming prince, but she was pretty sure Belle didn't awkwardly lay on the bed trying to imagine being anywhere else.

She lay underneath him, her head spun from the liquor, and her mind raced with excitement and fear at what was to come. At some point he would take out his...you know...and then he'd see her...you know.

In the meantime his hands continued their conquest of her body, tickling and digging at her flesh. Occasionally his lips would meet hers, smelling of whiskey and the two beers he pounded before they stumbled up to his room. His fingers wandered down Sansa's body, past the bottom of her skirt, and slid up her thighs. Her skin was exposed to him and her body twitched at his touch. She truly appreciated at that moment that Joffery had not taken the time to properly clip his nails before their evening together and the skin on her upper thighs was very sensitive. He clawed at her thighs, scratching and slashing until his fingers found their way to her panties. She had worn her favorite pair that evening, thy were mostly blue and had cute little red dots. The bottom elastic area was lacy and the waist band had a small red decorative bow.

"Ugh," Joffery groaned his he grasped the panties and began to tug them down her legs and his nails dug into her flesh. The movements were jerky and violent, and Sansa froze when she heard a ripping noise.

"Let me," she offered frantically, not wanting to hear any more ripping, and reached down and under her skirt. Her hands trembled as reached up her skirt and slid her panties off.

"There we go," Joffery groaned and his finger tips skittered back up her thigh until he reached her unguarded private area. His fingers began to jab and poke as he looked deep into Sansa's eyes.

"You like that baby?" he asked.

_I'm I supposed to?_

"Totally," she falsely cooed, hoping that positive encouragement would yield better results.

"Yeah, you do. You're a dirty little girl," he grunted, and as he licked up the side of her neck, Sansa recoiled at the terrible slurping noise it made.

_I feel kind of dirty. _

"Such a dirty little girl," he said again, nibbling on her neck. It was nice for a moment until his nibbling became more of a gnawing. Sansa fought the urge to swat him the face to prevent anymore teething, afraid he would draw blood, or worse, leave marks her mother would notice.

"Softer?" Sansa asked softly.

"Wh-a?" Joffery mumbled, his mouth still latched on Sansa's neck.

"Maybe..be a bit softer?" she whimpered, not specifying where he should be softer, because he should be softer everywhere.

"Uhhh?" he asked again, not hearing her, or maybe too drunk to understand.

"Ohh, nothing," she said and he continued his fumbling and chewing. Sansa wasn't sure how long he kept this up, ten seconds, ten minutes, but it was too long.

"Wait," Joffery said, whipping his head back from Sansa's neck.

"What?" Sansa asked her...lover...

"Why are we doing this here?"

"What? I thought you wanted to do this?"

"Oh, I do. But I have a great idea. Let's go to my parent's hot tub."

"Go to your parent's hot tub...and..." Sansa mumbled.

"Oh yeah..." he said as his voice dropped an octave and became more husky.

"But...but..." Sansa began to argue.

_Have sex...in the hot tub? That doesn't sound...clean. I mean...I don't even open my eyes in the pool. _

"Oh, c'mon on 't you love me?" Joffery asked and gazed at Sansa with his big green eyes.

"Yeah...of course I love you," Sansa whimpered.

**July 22****nd**** 2003 **

**Tyrion**

The last hour had been a blur for Tyrion. One moment they were at the restaurant and the next they needed to be in his car, as soon as possible. Tyrion did not want anything to happen that could change Shae's mind about the decision they had just made. Tyrion didn't even look at the bill the short busty blonde provided. He just put five or six twenty-dollar bills into the black leather bill holder and rushed away with Shae.

_I probably gave her a forty dollar tip. And she didn't refill the water Shae got with dinner. _

He didn't think he ran more than one red light. Besides, no one was coming and he had very important places to go. "Slow down," Shae purred and took the liberty of grazing her fingertips up his thigh as he was driving. "I'm not going to go bad."

Together they crashed through her front door after she unlocked it, knocking over a chrome coat stand near the front door. Shae seemed distracted by this but after Tyrion wrapped his arms around her torso and grabbed her ass the piece of fallen furniture didn't seem to matter anymore.

"Where's your bedroom?" Tyrion grunted as they kissed. Her lips were so...tasty. They were moist and tasted like the wine she sipped. Her tongue was soft and savory. Her scent was maddening. Everything about her was maddening.

"That way," she grunted in return as she ran her hand through his hair and lead him towards the bedroom. They bumped into her long brown leather couch as they they wrestled towards the bedroom.

Shae's bedroom was small, but intimate. Her bed sat in the center of the room, covered in at least dozen pillows, and she sheets and comforter were purple satin. Black and white pictures of famous architecture lined the walls. A black and white portrait of the Eiffel Tower caught Tyrion's eye; the spire rose from the ground in a magnificent way. A large antique oak dresser stood to the side,decorated with decorative spiraling wrought-iron handles. Scented candles stood on the top. Tyrion thought of taking a moment to stop and and light them but decided against it.

_Maybe next time. _

Nimble fingers skittered down Tyrion's chest and began to unbuckle his belt while his hands began to slip around her back and search for a zipper. They tumbled onto the bed with Shae atop him. She stopped kissing him for a moment and she got up from him and with her same nimble fingers reached around and unzipped her dress. Tyrion was awestruck as her dress fell from her body and exposed her flawless body.

Although he found it hard to think of anything else, Tyrion reached into his pocket for his wallet. He flipped it open and snapped out a small neon latex safety net.

"Fuck that," she commanded, slipping her matching green lace panties to the ground. "I'm on the pill."

"Great." Was all Tyrion could grunt as he flipped her onto the mattress.

**November 14th 1998 (or still at Joffery's house)**

**Sansa**

"Come on, the water is plenty warm," Joffery assured her as he entered the hot tub completely naked.

"Okay..." Sansa whimpered. Her left hand covered her exposed breasts, making sure to cover all of the disgusting birthmark she had under her right nipple. Her right hand covered the lower part of her body. The bathroom floor was cold on her bare feet so she hurried to the large white hot tub and slipped inside, on the far side from Joffery.

Searing hot water jets shot out water at a fast pace and massaged her back as she rested for a moment. The knot in her back began to tighten in Joffery's bedroom and grew larger when they disrobed in front of the tub.

She had seen Joffery at various degrees of nude before and learned to appreciate what she saw. His chest wasn't scrawny, it was sleek, and his legs weren't bony, they were just compact. He still had his gorgeous green eyes and beautiful blond hair and Sansa decided to focus on that.

"Come on babe," Joffery slurred as he thrashed his hands in the tub motioning her towards him. She looked down quickly and luckily the swirling water of the hot tub covered her chest and her birthmark.

"Okay," she whimpered as she scooted closer to her...love. This is what she wanted. She wanted Joffery all to herself...she wanted this so badly.

_ And, we're in a hot tub, which was romantic. Right? _

"Come over here," Joffery instructed forcefully as he dipped his hand into the water and wrapped it around her waist.

"Ohh!" Sansa squealed as she was shifted on to his lap. His very erect...rubbing against his thigh.

"God you are so pretty."

"...Thanks..." Sansa sputtered, turning her head away from his face as his alcohol-soaked breath was beginning to wear on her.

"Even that splotchy spot on your tit is pretty," he groaned as his hand wrapped around the very same splotchy spot he was speaking about. He sunk his head down to her chest and his drunken tongue began to lap at her chest like a thirsty basset hound. The sensation tickled and Sansa fought the urge to laugh or jerk away. His pace increased and as Sansa began to feel uncomfortably slobbery as his jaws clenched onto her like a teething child.

"Wow!" she shrieked and couldn't help but slap him in the back of the head.

"Oh, babe, I can't wait anymore," Joffery growled as he moved her body against her...so she was lined up with his...

"But, wait..." Sansa hesitated. "I'm not on the pill or anything. Don't we need a condom or...something?"

"No...we'll be fine," Joffery explained. "You can't get pregnant in a hot tub."

"Ummm, I don't think that's true..." Sansa countered.

"Babe...I know what I'm talking about," he said in annoyance as his head dropped down in his drunken daze. "Not to mention, you're going to be on top. You can't get pregnant if you're on top. That's just gravity."

Sansa thought back her freshmen health class and could have sworn that none of that was true. But, she could have missed something. She did spend most of her time doodling in her notebook and not really listening.

"Are you sure?" Sansa stammered, uncertainty filling her mumbling voice.

"Totally," he groaned, thrusting his body towards her.

"Oh...okay," Sansa agreed.

_You want this. You want Joffery. You need this. _

Sansa slide her body up Joffery's thighs until she meet his...

_Penis Sansa...it's called a Penis. It's about to go inside your vagina. You should be able to say the names before you do it. _

"Okay, here we go," Sansa groaned as she slid her...vagina...over his penis. There was more resistance than she expected and her jaw clenched in pain as she lowered herself further.

"There we go," Joffery grunted as he began to rock his body against hers as the hot tub roared around them. It didn't hurt...a lot. She knew it might hurt a bit, but this was more than she expected. Joffery started to sloppily kiss her shoulder as she joined him in rocking back and forth, fighting through the discomfort. Sansa never knew what her first time would be like, but she didn't think it'd be like this.

**AN:**

**Thanks for all the reviews, follows, etc. **

**For you Sansa X Tyrion shippers out there I'm sorry we haven't gotten to the 'good stuff' yet. I promise it is coming. **

**Next time: We jump ahead with Sansa to an important moment for her entire family. Tywin and Tyrion have lunch and Tyrion meets a very important person, but doesn't realize it. **


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 (Or _[Sound effect of a lion roaring]_)**

**November 3rd 1995**

**The Keymaster**

Arya had no time to spare. Gendry had gotten the new Mortal Kombat game for the PlayStation and every moment she spent getting home was one less moment she had to burn his ass to the ground.

_ The fucking asshole thought he was so-o-o-o cool because he knew that stupid code and could unlock all the characters. Too bad I am about to have Sonya shove her boot up his ass. _

It was Friday around three o'clock in the afternoon and the sun hung in the sky as Arya rushed home. There was a brisk wind that brushed against her face as she practically skipped along the sidewalk. It was thankfully a quick day of school and the promise of graphic violence on a big screen television sent a pulse through her blood.

_He is so stupid. I am going to kick the shit out of him. _

It was also a good day because she had avoided walking home with Sansa. Their mother always asked that they walk home together, but since her sister was heading over to Joffery's that afternoon, she had a gleeful walk home without endless blather. Looking forward to her afternoon with Joffery, Sansa had gone to school in the shortest skirt her mother would allow and the cutest/sluttiest top she could find. While walking to school she was constantly complaining about how cold her legs were.

_ No really? A miniskirt in Wisconsin...in November...and you're cold? I would have never imagined. I don't hope you get frost bite on your vag, but if you do I will laugh._

She neared her house and noticed a man she did not know in front of her door fiddling with the lock along with a van parked in the driveway that she did not recognize. Her mother stood to the right of him, peering over his shoulder as she watched him work. It was not until she reached the stoop that she remembered that Rob had lost his car keys the other day, so the front door had to have its locks changed. She remembered hearing her father disagree, saying that was an overreaction, but her mother would hear nothing of it. The house was not safe while some stranger had the keys to the house and she wouldn't have her children be at risk.

"There you go Mrs. Stark," the man said, standing up from the crouch he sat in. "The deadbolt has been changed."

"Thank you very much."

"Have a good day," he said, picked up his tool box and walked towards his truck. In his blue jumpsuit he passed Arya, giving her a courtesy nod and she gave him a quick polite wave and approached her mother, who was looking at something in her hand.

"Hi, Mom," Arya greeted as she walked towards her. She was in a rush but knew well enough to be polite to her mother to avoid a possible lecture on manners.

"Good afternoon," she said and closed her fist around what appeared to be the new house keys. A stiff breeze chilled her mother. "Let's go inside," she intrusted, and she moved for her daughter to get in from the cold.

_You let Sansa go out to have her cooch frozen off and I have to go inside because of a gust of wind. _

Arya entered the house, slipped off her shoes, and kicked them off to the side. "Put them in the right place," her mother said and walked to the kitchen. Arya rolled her eyes and placed her shoes properly next to the others on the floor mat labels _**SHOES**_

_Did she stumble across that? Or have it ordered?_

Arya vaulted upstairs and dropped her backpack off in her room. It was heavy with her both her math and history book. It contained more homework than she expected for the weekend. It would have to wait though, as she had some serious ass to kick...but first she had to pee.

After finishing her business in the bathroom she looked at herself in the mirror and fixed her hair a bit. Not able to fix it with her hands she quickly grabbed a comb and ran it through her bangs to put the tousled brown hair into place. She knew Gendry's mother liked it when Arya came over and looked nice. She walked back into the hall and thought for a moment.

_ Maybe Gendry's mom would like it if I had some lip balm. Gendry mentioned he liked grapes. Maybe...his mom would like grape lip balm. _

She knew should find some in Sansa's room and luckily she was out with a blond puppy kicker. Her room was painted pink per her sister's begging last summer.

_I think the shade was 'dark Pepto Bismol.' _

On her sister's dresser was a box of various chap sticks. There was probably some logic to it but Arya did not see it. She rummaged through the box without finding grape.

_ Watermelon, bubble gum, cherry, root beer? Eww. Where's the grape? It is really important to Gendry...Gendry's mom. _

She looked down and found a bizarre cinnamon flavor. She didn't trust it but thought it would do. She applied it to her lips and it felt odd. She had only done it a couple of times and tried to mimic what she saw her mother and Sansa do. The chapstick was waxy and alien against her lips. She pressed her tongue against her lips and it tasted like waxy cinnamon. At least when she looked in the mirror she noticed a distinct glisten on her lips

_Close enough I guess. _

She noticed next to the chapsticks was a box of necklaces. She ran her fingers through the box and the metal was cold against her fingertips. There was a gold chain connected to a ruby heart, a sterling silver chain with a sapphire heart, a white thread connected to a jade heart.

_What is with her and hearts?_

Then she noticed a black thread connected to a simple blue stone held in sterling silver. She picked it up and examined the necklace closely. The blue stone was connected to the black thread and it glistened in the afternoon sun that streamed in through the window.

The necklace was big enough to fit over her head so she slipped it on and she looked in the mirror and was happy with what she saw.

_She'll like me. I look okay. _

She wandered down the stairs and went to the kitchen to find her mother. She was at the kitchen counter and was placing something on the keys she had laid out in front of her. Arya approached her and noticed that she had rubber key caps of various colors. She had eight keys and numerous caps to go with the keys.

"Hey Mom, I am going to head over to Gendry's. I'll stay over there for dinner," she told her mother as she moved forward.

"Is Gendry's mother home?" she asked, not looking up from the keys in front of her. She reached down and placed a red cap on top of the key.

"Yes, she is home," she responded quickly.

Her mother reached down again to grab another key. "Will his father be there?" she asked. Arya didn't know what the truth was, but she knew the correct answer.

"No, Gendry said he would be staying late at work," she responded as time continued to slip away and every moment spent talking to her mother was one less moment ripping Sub-Zero's head off his shoulders.

"Okay, you can stay over for dinner," her mother said handing her a key with a gray cap on it. "You'll need this. The locks have been changed and your old key is useless now."

Arya reached into her pocket and took out her key ring. It only had her house key and a key chain with a plastic name tag labeled 'Arya.'

_I was really surprised they had my name. _

She took the key out of her mother's hand and gave her the old one. "This key means you can always come home," she said, gazing into her daughter's eyes. Arya felt a bit uncomfortable but looked back. Her mother's deep blue eyes had a seriousness to them that Arya didn't understand.

_It also means I can sneak out easily and get back in. _

Arya looked at the key for a moment and didn't under the importance her mother gave it. She shrugged, placed it on her key chain, and went off to kill Gendry.

**August 1, 2003**

**Tyrion**

Tyrion hated working under his father. It was abhorrent, bewildering, callous, dehumanizing, and execrable. But his condo was his reward for his servitude. It was his castle. It was his sublime sanctum away from the horrors of the outside world. It had three bedrooms, one of which was a library and the other was his TV room. The kitchen was spacious and completely equipped with top-of-the-line appliances, which was waste considering how little he used it. His oven was little more than a place to heat leftover pizza and his refrigerator just held white boxes containing General Tso's Chicken.

His eyes opened to find his bedroom a disaster. Tyrion had completely different plans for last night until he got a text from Shae reading 'your place – tonight'. Tyrion called his cleaning service and demanded they have his castle cleaned by four at the latest. When they balked at his request he said that he would pay double the rate, and after twenty minutes of conversation with two different managers and an associate director he secured the services he demanded. Of course, as Tyrion and Shae burst into his keep and made their way to his chambers, they paid little attention to the cleanliness and in fact caused quite a mess. They tore through his castle like a tornado ripping through a small town. Shae was a sultry storm that ravaged Tyrion's life and all he wanted was more. Never before had he meet a woman like her that affected him like this. His mind was paralyzed when she was around and his poorly disguised deviant innards were unleashed. Her touch was tender, her skin was silken, and her aroma was unstoppably alluring. He could not resist even if he wanted to.

Tyrion propped himself up in bed and looked around. Clothes were strewn around the floor atop wet foot prints on the carpet that marked their path back from the shower to the bed. The lamp on his bedside table was knocked to its side and a white pair of panties covered his clock radio. He lifted up the pair of panties and saw that it was almost nine o'clock. The bed shook as Shae stirred from sleep. "What time is it?" Shae asked and rolled towards Tyrion.

"Almost nine," he yawned and wiped the sleep out of his eyes. "I need to get going."

"Me too," Shae groaned, flipped the comforter off her, and exposed her glorious naked body. It didn't matter how many times he saw caught a glimpse of that perfect piece of art, his mind was just hijacked by other, less noble, parts of his body.

_No...we have to go to work. Bad penis._

"You seem relaxed," Tyrion noted. "Don't you start at eight?"

"Nah, I have the morning off. Doctor's appointment," his bed-mate explained.

Shae staying the night was unexpected and Tyrion hoped it wouldn't become the norm. In fairness, she didn't so much stay the night as much as she passed out on her side from exhaustion. But still, the parameters of their relationship were strictly physical and Tyrion didn't want to wade into the dangerous waters of having a girlfriend. That's not what he wanted and according to her, that's not what she wanted. This was supposed to be a fun stress release for both and nothing more. And as intoxicated as he was by Shae, he knew it would never work out between them. The couple of times they had actual conversations in the car or when they got a bite to eat together, they were painfully dull and excruciatingly awkward.

_So..umm...how was your day at work?_

_ Oh? Are you talking to me?_

_ Ummm...yeah. _

_ It...was...you know, good. _

_ ...that's good. _

There was nothing there to explore and Tyrion wasn't going to look under any rocks to find a spark between them. This is what he wanted. He had waited in line a long time to find a beautiful woman who just wanted a trite physical relationship and he wasn't going to get off the ride until the carney ripped him from the seat.

"I'm going to pop in the shower," Tyrion told her with a nod, trying to emphasize the subtext. 'You should probably be gone by the time I get back.'

"I'll grab a quick shower after you," she said and reached for the remote to his TV on her bedside table.

"Hey, Shae..." Tyrion started as he itched his stubbly chin out of nervous energy. "I wanted to talk to you about staying over last night."

"Don't worry about it," she hastily replied. "It won't become a regular thing. And I only want to take a shower here so I can go to my gyno and not smell like I was up all night fucking."

"Okay...good," Tyrion said after a deep exhale.

The TV flicked on and he heard Shae begin to laugh. "Your favorite commercial is on," his mistress taunted him.

_That fucking commercial. _

Last year Tywin wanted to increase the firm's advertising budget. He didn't believe in the normal lowbrow commercials most lawyers produced but couldn't argue with the results he heard from other attorneys at conferences. So he, along with Cersei, who weaseled her way in as a 'creative director,' made the worst thing Tyrion had ever seen.

** A voice is heard over a dark screen. **

_** "In jungle the lion is the most feared creature!"**_

_** [Sound effect of a lion roaring]**_

_** A man appears on the screen wearing a dark black suit and a brilliant crimson tie. His striking blond hair is perfectly slicked back with intimidating jade eyes. Below his face the name plate of "Tywin Lannister, Esq." appears in red letters with a gold outline. **_

_** "We at Lannister, Lannister, & Lannister have over forty years of experience servicing the Madison area in both personal injury and divorce. We are the pride of the state."**_

_** While Tywin speaks cut to quick shoots of employees working at a luxurious law firm. Included in this show two men, titled "Kevin Lannister, Esq." and "Jamie Lannister, Esq." speaking with a non-threatening ethnic secretary. **_

_** Cut back to Tywin with the Lannister, Lannister, & Lannister logo with the firm's contact information underneath. **_

_** "We will stop at nothing to serve your legals needs. Together, people will hear us roar!"**_

_** Tywin then opens his jaw and [sound effect of a lion roaring] is heard again as the screen fades to black. **_

The worst part was that Tyrion was told he could be a part, but his portion of the commercial was cut out. He didn't know why it surprised him. He'd been cut out of the family his entire life – why would it be any different now?

**May 15h 2003**

**Sansa**

Sansa missed her job back in Madison, which was odd because working at a Starbucks in Madison wasn't much different from working at a Starbucks in Grafton. She just missed the city. She missed her friends in Madison. She missed the freedom she had lost when she moved back home. She had graduated from college just a week ago, but moving back home was already began to suffocate her. Her mother was hounding her about when she'd be home for dinner, and what jobs she was looking for, and whether she was wearing clean underwear.

_Maybe she didn't actually ask that last one, but it doesn't seem like much of a stretch of reality._

It was a cool spring night as Sansa approached the front door to her 'home.' It had been her home for the longest time but, she since she returned from her senior year it was just a house to her, a place to sleep and eat between shifts at Starbucks. Sansa took her keys out of her pocket and slowly slide the key in the door, attempting to make as little noise as possible. She wasn't trying avoid her mother...but it would be amazing if Sansa could make it up to her room without encountering either of her parents. She already knew the mood her parents were probably going to be in.

Sansa slowly pushed the door open and winced at the loud creak as it opened.

_Geez Dad...would it kill you to WD-40 the hinges?_

The hallway was dimly lit with the blue glow of a television emanating from the living room. With any luck her parents didn't hear the creak of the door and she could dash to the stairs before anyone noticed.

"Sansa?" her mother asked from the living room.

_Fucking door. _

"Yeah?" Sansa asked and considered running towards the stairs. If she made it to her room she'd be safe. There was a lock on the door her mother couldn't get through.

_I mean...what would she do? Kick the door in?_

"We need to talk," her mother said sternly as she came into view.

_I wonder if she talked to Arya..._

"I'm going to go change really quick..." Sansa began to mutter.

"No. We need to talk now," her mother told her with a deep and rigid scowl across her face.

_Yep. She talked to Arya. Only Arya could give my mother that face. _

"What's up?" Sansa asked rhetorically. It seemed better than asking 'so I guess Arya told you?'

"We talked to your sister earlier today...and she told us she plans on moving in with Gendry in Madison. Tomorrow."

Sansa considered lying, but it probably wouldn't do any good. Not to mention she had lied to her mother too much in her life. The truth felt amazing and liberating at this point. "I know."

"You know? Why didn't you tell us?!" Her mother shrieked and her eyes, normally light blue, glared at her with a darkness Sansa had never seen before.

"Because Arya asked me not to."

"So you let us get blind sided!" her mother yelled.

Her father now appeared from the living room and walked up behind his wife. "Cat, calm down. Yelling isn't going to help."

"Yeah. Arya and Bran will hear you."

"Bran is at a friend's house. And Arya left earlier today. She didn't say where she was going or when she'll be back," her mother growled, clearly upset that her daughter left and did not tell her where she was going.

"She's fine. She's probably at Gendry's house."

"And your sister told us that most of this last semester she was living basically already living with Gendry."

Again, lying came to mind...but she didn't want to. Her mother needed to hear the truth, although she would never admit it. All of her children had been lying to her on one level or another for the last couple of years. Bran claimed he was going to go to school in state, but Sansa knew he had already been accepted to Princeton. Rob was 'this close' to committing to a girl and starting a family, but in truth he was married to his job. Jon lived with a roommate in Canada, that roommate being a girl named Ygritte. And now Arya was going to live with Gendry, but she had the audacity to admit it to the world.

"It wasn't any of your business, Mom," Sansa curtly told her mother.

"None of my business!" her mother repeated, anger flowing off her.

"Yes!" Sansa yelled back. "Arya's grown up. She has every right to be happy!" Sansa yelled and felt her lip quiver as her mother glared at her with pure rage.

"Hey, hey," her father jumped in before her mother could scream back. "Sansa, why don't you go upstairs," her father asked her. Sansa thought of disobeying. She didn't want to be told to go to her room, but she'd rather be anywhere else than here.

Sansa stormed down the hallway, scurried up the stairs to her room, and slammed the door behind her.

_I don't believe I just stood up to my mother...for Arya?!_

According to her sister, Sansa had spent most of her life with her head up her ass. When she first heard this Sansa was deeply offended and thought it was just Arya teasing her like she always did. Over time though, and after the terror that was Joffery, her misadventure with Loras, and her attempts to change Sandor, she realized that Arya might have point. More and more Sansa found herself lying in bed, later and later at night, and felt the world spin around her, as she thought over every stupid decision she had ever made. There were more than Sansa wanted to talk about.

Arya was the smart sister and, it pained Sansa to say, the responsible sister. Sansa had just graduated from college with a GPA weighted down by a terrible freshman year, while Arya was going to graduate near the top of her class probably. She was a double major in both public policy and political science on her way to be lawyer. Arya had been working here and there since she was seventeen while Sansa continued to just mooch from her parents until very recently. And most importantly Arya had what Sansa craved – a man devoted to her. She had been with Gendry now basically since her freshmen year in high school. There was still debate between the two of them when they officially started dating. Arya claimed it was when they went to see a movie in 1998 and Gendry claimed it was the night after his dad left in 1997. In Sansa's opinion they had been together since Arya stumbled into his bedroom searching for a bathroom when they first meet. It didn't matter though when it started, because what they had now was unbreakable. Or at least Sansa hoped so because what they planed to do might end up spiting them in two. Never before had they faced something as challenging as moving in together.

The hard part wasn't them having to share a space. Since Arya joined Gendry and Sansa at the University of Madison her freshmen year, their sophomore year, she and Gendry had been basically living together. No one knew better than Arya's roommate – Sansa. It was their mother's suggestion to keep her 'girls together and safe.' After the suggestion didn't work, and since she couldn't order her now technically adult daughters to live together, it was their mother's bribe that netted Arya and Sansa over a thousand dollars a year. Gendry spent a majority of his nights in Arya's room until this last year, when Gendry had a single room and Arya essentially moved into his dorm room. Sansa thankfully took in most of Arya's bribe as payment for that arrangement.

The hard part wasn't money. Gendry had just graduated, and although he, like Sansa, had a boat load of student loan debt, he had already secured a job after graduation. Arya also found a new job for the summer, waiting tables somewhere, but Sansa forgot where her sister mentioned.

They had everything covered like they always seemed to. By themselves they paid the the security deposit, the first and last months rent, and bought a whole, albeit used, living room set. Gendry had taken care of renting a truck, and although he admitted a little anxiety over driving something that big, he was going to do it anyways. Nothing would stop them. Everything was in order.

The hard part was telling Arya and Sansa's parents. Arya and Gendry made the decision to move in together over the winter and started their plans in the spring without alerting anyone. Sansa only found out one day when Arya asked if she knew of any good apartments in the area. Gendry told his mom over the phone in a delightful conversation Sansa was told ended with her telling her son that he needed new sheets.

_New sheets...new sheets that Arya and Gendry would sleep together on. Both figuratively and literally. _

Sansa knew her parents must have known how serious Arya was with Gendry. She hoped they hadn't hopeless deluded themselves into thinking Arya was still a virgin. It was painfully obvious to everyone and Sansa just assumed they let it slide because they were powerless to stop it. They couldn't ground Arya forever and they couldn't forbid her from seeing Gendry. Hell, both her parents liked Gendry. He was the first non-Stark to ever be invited to Christmas dinner last year. But, moving in together was a bridge too far. While her parents would tolerate Arya and Gendry's relationship in 'secret', they would not hear of them moving in together. Not only was it against their beliefs as Catholics, it was against their beliefs as parents. She remembered being told countless times by her mother how inappropriate it was for men and women to move in together before marriage, that how men and women needed marriage to guide their love, and how wrong it was to be 'carnal' before they were married. The word 'carnal' coming out of her mother's mouth made her skin crawl to the point that Sansa considered never having sex.

But, she did have sex. She had sex with Joffery, in a hot tub, without a condom. It was like a game of Clue that tried to solve the worst decision of her life. After that, when Sansa was alone, and had no one else she thought she could talk to, her sister was there for her. Her sister, who wanted to strangle her for doing something so stupid, was the one who helped her. Her sister helped her get through college. Hell, Gendry did more than Arya to get Sansa though college. Without Gendry Sansa may have died out in the freezing Wisconsin winter...without any clothes on.

_Mistake number 107 – what a life you've lived, Sansa. _

Sansa owed a lot to Arya and Gendry, and she was going to make it up to them tomorrow. She was going to help them move out...and hopefully her mother's gaze wouldn't turn her into stone.

Later that night before Sansa went to bed she got a text from her sister.

**Thanks for not telling mom about me and Gendry **

Sansa smiled at her phone and turned off her light. A minute later her phone buzzed on her bedside table again.

**And Gendry keeps on pestering me to say that I love you. Which I do and I guess I don't say enough. **

It was probably the nicest thing Sansa had ever been told by her sister. And then she sent her sister a text of her own.

**I guess I love you too ;)**

**August 1, 2003**

**Tyrion**

Tyrion arrived at work at 10:00am, which meant he missed only one appointment, which for him was actually a good start to the morning. Thankfully for him the receptionist, this one was named Susan he thought, was away from the front desk and he was able to slither into his office without alerting his father. He would have gotten there earlier, but Shae took ten minutes in the shower and he didn't want to leave her alone in his castle.

Time wasn't an issue now though, since he got in before his important 10:30am meeting, and now he was staring at the clock wishing it would spin faster.

_This man is never on time. Doesn't he know we have important business?_

"Mr. Lannister," the receptionist-possibly-named-Susan said over the intercom. "A Mr. Bronn Black is here to see you."

"Send him right in," Tyrion ordered and nervously twiddled his fingers.

A minute later his 'friend' and favorite private investigator waltzed into his office at his own pace. He was wearing all black - pants, shirt, and tie, but no jacket considering the temperatures this time of year.

_He really takes the whole 'Black Investigations' thing to a crazy level. His name isn't really black...it's Bobienski. But, I guess 'Bobienski Investigations' is just too 'unpronounceable Polish' for his tastes. _

"You're late," Tyrion growled, upset his most important appointment of the day was delayed.

"No, I'm not."

"The meeting was scheduled for ten-thirty and it's almost eleven. In fact, I can't think of a time you arrived to a meeting on time."

"Well then, I would say I'm on time, you just set bad times for meetings."

"Whatever," Tyrion spat. "You have my stuff?"

"Hey, hey, hey, big guy! Let's handle our other business first," Bronn told him.

"Do you want to get paid?"

"Fine," Bronn groaned and lightly tossed a small plastic bag filled with various pills onto his desk.

"Good," Tyrion grunted and snatched the bag off the desk. A quick count showed forty small white pills and forty small gray pills. "How much?"

"Four hundred," Bronn answered with a smug smile.

"No way. Last time it was three hundred."

"Well, prices go up...inflation...you know..." Bronn explained and mumbled off. His explanation was pure bullshit and he wasn't even trying to hide it. Bronn knew Tyrion wasn't going to go anywhere else for his needs.

_Fucking supply and demand. I demand that he supplies me with my pills and he knows I'm to paranoid to go else where with my demand. _

"Asshole," Tyrion growled. He threw the bag of pills into one of his drawer and took out a wad of twenties, counted out twenty of them, and lazily threw the dirty money to his 'friend.'

"Thank you," Bronn greedily smiled as he picked up the pile of money and counted it for himself. "Do you have anything else?"

"Uhh?" Tyrion asked.

"You know...any business...for my actual business?"

"Uhh..."

"I told you I only wanted to come here on official business and bringing your 'treats' was only a perk of hiring me."

"Uhh..."

"So, you have no work for me?"

"Umm, no," Tyrion sighed.

"So, I came all this way just to deliver your damn pills?"

"Uhh...yeah."

"You know, I do have a reputable business that I run now. I only deal to you as a courtesy," Bronn told his 'friend.'

"A courtesy that you greatly overcharge," Tyrion corrected him.

"Oddly, I don't feel guilty about the four hundred dollar price tag."

"You're just lucky I like you so much."

"No, you're too fucking lazy to find a new dealer. Not mention you wouldn't find another one that would deliver."

"I probably could."

"No, you couldn't. No one else is stupid enough to bring a felony amount of pills into your crazy ass father's office."

"Stupid? Four hundred dollars for something worth two hundred at the most doesn't sound stupid," Tyrion said, realizing mid-way through he actually had no idea how much his pills were worth. He just knew what Bronn charged him.

"I said it's stupid for me to come here. I didn't say I was being cheap."

Tyrion snorted and shook his head. "My father. You're actually afraid of my father?"

"I'm not stupid. So, yeah...I am."

"And what is so scary about Tywin Lannister?" Tyrion asked and flailed his hands around his face in mock terror.

"You mean besides the fact that he bankrupted another law firm out of petty vengeance?"

"So?" Tyrion grunted and rolled his eyes. He hated the fear his father inspired in others. Tywin couldn't make anyone love him so he settled on fear, and it irritated Tyrion to no end that it seemed to work.

The intercom buzzed again and Tyrion growled in annoyance. He didn't have any other plans for the day and was excited to enjoy some quiet time at work with his latest purchase. He jammed his finger on the large red button and snarled, "what?"

"Your father would like to know if you're free for lunch."

"Ohh yeah," Bronn said and looked down to the watch on his wrist. "Time to get going," he said as he stood up and showed himself out of the room.

_Some 'friend' you are. _

Tyrion contemplated his options. He could say no and deal with his pissy father later in the day. Never in his entire life did he enjoy a meal with his father. At best it could be like a good trip to the dentist – it was done quickly with minimal gagging.

_Best to get it over with. And I know just where to take the stuffy piece of shit. Hopefully she is working today too..._

"Yes, I am. I planned on having an early lunch today. Around eleven o'clock"

"Where?" she asked.

"Harren's Hall," Tyrion answered.

**May 16h 2003 (or the day Arya moved out)**

**Sansa **

When morning came, Sansa didn't have the will to get out of bed. She had never been in a hurricane but assumed the feeling was similar. It was already too late to flee the storm that was brewing, and all she wanted to do was hunker down let it all blow over. Alas, she couldn't. She owed it to Arya, and herself, to help.

In her pajamas, a tank-top and a pair of shorts, Sansa trudged downstairs in search of coffee. It was only seven in the morning but Sansa knew she would find her mother already up in the kitchen. Her early rising was once based on getting her children off to school on time. Now, with only Bran in high school, and leaving well before seven to avoid his mother, she rose for only herself, and her love of routine.

Her mother sat alone at the kitchen table sipping on a cup of tea. When she was younger, Sansa did the same thing until one day she realized that coffee was in fact the nectar of the gods.

"Good morning," Sansa said to mother as merrily as she could. It was going to be a rough day but Sansa hoped they could at least be cordial.

"Good morning," her morning responded through a clenched jaw.

Sansa poured herself a steaming cup of coffee and sat down next to her mother. They didn't look at each other and sat in silent sipping their beverages, both brimming with nervous energy. Sansa felt her toe tap on the ground and her fingers began to drum on the table.

"Stop that," her mother sharply ordered. Sansa rolled her eyes, went to the fridge, and grabbed a yogurt. She actually wanted more but couldn't stand to be in the kitchen another second with her mother. She'd just grab a spoon and have a light breakfast in her bedroom. "You should have more for breakfast," her mother instructed her daughter.

"Ugh," Sansa couldn't help but grunt. Even if her mother was right, she didn't need to tell Sansa what to do. She graduated college and had a freaking Bachelor's degree. It was, of course, not the degree her mother wanted her to get. She was supposed to get degree in business, like Rob got, but she had the gall to get a degree in music education. The degree she wanted. The dream she wanted to follow. But that wasn't her mother's dream for her. And since Sansa declared to the world, and to the University of Madison, that she wanted to be a music teacher, everything with her mother was strained.

Sansa stood in the kitchen another moment, still angry at her mother's presumption at her breakfast choice. "I'm going to help her today," Sansa suddenly said to her mother.

"What?" her mother asked, confused or angry with the statement.

"Today. When Arya moves out. I'm going to help her."

"She doesn't need your help," her mother snarled.

"Yes, she does."

Her mother said nothing in return and continued to drink in silence. Sansa sighed and walked out of the room with her coffee and breakfast.

**Tyrion**

Harren's Hall was an ancient relic that had a storied history. The building that the restaurant was now in was rumored to have once been a brothel that burnt down in the twenties. Some said on quiet days you could still here the moans of the charred whores...or it could be the deep fryer. After that it was a speakeasy during Prohibition, a jazz club in the thirties, and at some point a failed chiropractor named Dr. Gene Levinstein had an office there. Currently, it was Harren's Hall, a small Greek/Mediterranean place that also served American food. It had history, it had style, and the owner always seemed to employ the hottest college girls. It was a wonderful place.

"This place doesn't have air conditioning? Tywin growled as they entered.

_If only my company was better. _

"No, I don't think it does. Maybe, if you took off your jacket, it'd be less warm," Tyrion suggested and received a cold stare from his father. The black suit jacket which framed his father's white shirt and red tie was exquisite, but the beads of sweat growing on his head showed the flaw in plan. Tyrion just groaned and made his way to a table and his father followed behind.

Together father and son sat at the table in silence as they looked at the menus when Tyrion saw a sight for sore eyes. His favorite waitress approached quickly with her short brown hair bouncing as she walked. She was a bit shorter than him, wearing a tight red shirt and tight black pants that framed her ass fantastically. Tyrion had been watching this girl all summer and decided that she had one of the greatest asses of all time. He couldn't remember her name...

_Anna? Arlene? Ariel? Not Ariel...she isn't a Disney princess. _

"What can I get you to drink?" she asked and pulled out her notepad.

"I'll take an iced tea, no sweetener," Tywin ordered without looking up from his menu.

"And for you?" she asked Tyrion, her gaze letting him know that she was well aware of his ogling.

"I'll have a bottle of Miller Lite," Tyrion ordered and his father scoffed, as he obviously did not approve.

"Okay, I'll go grab those for you," she said to them both and then the greatest moment of all happened. She spun around and walked towards the kitchen which gave Tyrion a glorious view and a moment of bliss.

"A beer?" Tywin asked.

"Is that a problem?"

"No. That isn't the problem."

"Then what is?" Tyrion asked, knowing there had to be a problem. Tywin didn't enjoy being here any more than Tyrion did.

"The problem is you dating a client."  
"What are you talking about?" Tyrion gulped as he attempted to play dumb.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. I've heard from several sources that you have been seen around town with a client."

_Fuck. Shit. Ass-douche, cunt-waffle, cock sucking, motherfucking, shit-fucker! Okay...don't say of what you just thought...and just relax. _

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tyrion said as he doubled down in his deception.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," Tyrion growled to his father whose gaze would not move from the menu.

They sat in silence for another minute until Anna-Arlene-Ariel returned with their drink orders. _"_Your iced tea, and a Miller Lite," she purred with a smile to Tyrion.

His eyes sadly roamed up from her hips to her name tag which read a very different name then Tyrion remembered. "Thank you very much...Beth."

_Did her ass blind me to her name? _

The name tag itself did look different. Instead of a small piece of plastic, it was a gaudy lamented tag with the name 'Beth' written in pen.

"You are very welcome. Have you decided on what you wanted?" Beth asked them.

"Tyrion, what's good here? You're the one that dragged me here."

"Everything is good here," Tyrion answered his father.

"If you like gyros we have the best in town," Beth suggested.

"No, I don't care for lamb," Tywin answered without looking up from his menu.

"Well...we also have burgers, wraps..."

"I will have a chef salad," Twin answered as he closed the menu and handed it towards the serving girl without making eye contact.

Tyrion rolled his eyes at his father's behavior. "I'll have a small gyro and a side salad, with ranch dressing."

"I'll put those in for you," Beth answered. She was only flirting with him to get a tip, but he had turned 'tip-flirting' into drunken mistakes before.

As she walked away, Tywin's gaze returned to his son. "I hate it when you do that. It is embarrassing. And it isn't only yourself. It's embarrassing to the firm and the family."

"Do what? Chat with a young girl? I thought you wanted me to get married. I believe you said it would promote a 'good image' for the firm."

"You don't find a wife by lusting after waitresses half your age."

"She isn't half my age. She's at least twenty."

"She's fifteen at best," his father commented like he was an authority on the matter.

_And if she has that ass at fifteen, I want to know her address and her birthday so I can find her when she turns eighteen. _

"And besides, I thought you said I was fucking a client," Tyrion challenged his father, hoping that Beth would prove he wasn't with Shae.

"That's because you are. Even after I expressly told you not to. And it is going to stop. Now," Tywin ordered but then suddenly dropped the subject as Beth approached the table again.

"Here is your side salad. The rest of the food will be out shortly," she said with a fake smile before walking away. Tywin glared at the girl who took her time as she walked away.

"Your current case load is a joke. You are handling one divorce case that should have been settled weeks ago," Tywin growled.

_ Ohh, I get it. We're having this conversation here so no one at the office hears us. He doesn't even want the waitress to hear this. But, he's so pissed at me he wants to argue even when someone else can hear. Fine, I don't mind disagreeing with my father. _

"The size of my load is no joke," he chuckled, knowing Beth could still hear. "And besides, I think I can take a small break if I want to. My name is on the door." Tyrion knew that would get a reaction out of his father.

"Your name is not on the door. My name is, your uncle's name is, and your brother's name is."

"Oh yes, and how Jamie deserved that."

"Your brother is twice the man you are."

_Height wise maybe. Beyond that..._

Beth finally disappeared into the kitchen and Tyrion began on his salad. He could argue and eat at the same time. "She's gone now. Would like to continue what we were taking about?" Tyrion asked as he popped some of his lettuce into his mouth.

"There is nothing to talk about. You will stop seeing that woman."

"Or what?"

"Or I will remove you from the firm."

"No you won't."

"Don't tempt me," Tywin growled as he took a sip of his iced tea and grimaced at the taste.

"You won't fire me because then you'd have to tell all your colleagues that your son is a ne'er-do-well."

"My colleagues already know my son is a ne'er-do-well. And another thing..." Tywin began but was interrupted by a sharp crashing noise. Both their heads spun to the side and saw Beth standing in front of a pile of broken dishes. She did not move, she did not breath, and it looked like her skin was burning.

The girl was clearly cursing at herself as she bent down and began to clean up her mess. "Poor girl," Tyrion commented.

"No she isn't. She got me an iced tea is sweetened," Tywin growled at his son.

"Ohh...no...your ice tea is sweetened...what a shame," Tyrion mocked.

"The iced tea doesn't matter. What matters is you stop seeing that woman."

"Is that why we are here? You came here just to tell me to stop seeing Shae and didn't want to do it at the office?"

"Heh, smarter than you look," his father taunted.

"Better than looking smarter than you are."

"Don't be sarcastic with me. You will stop seeing that woman." Tywin's gaze narrowed onto Tyrion and he fought the urge to nervously twitch. Even if he claimed he didn't fear the great and powerful Tywin Lannister, he had yet to outgrow the annoying habit of fearing his father.

"You are not the boss of me..." Tyrion started but realized that wasn't the case. "...well you are...but that's not the point. I'm not doing any harm seeing Shae," he admitted the truth as lying wasn't helping him at all anyways.

"Yes you are. You are playing with fire and will burn down the entire firm," Tywin hissed his annoyance. They were nearing the fight they both wanted to have. But, unfortunately Beth returned with their food.

With the girl there they couldn't continue. But there was no way to stop their argument at this point. So Tyrion just decided to change the subject. "You have nothing to stand on. The first amendment isn't a suggestion."

_Yeah, that sounds good. I should be free to express myself...and fuck Shae. _

"What?" Tywin said under his breath and then noticed Beth approaching with their food. Together they would be united in lie for the waitress so they could continue being angry at each other. "You can't yell fire in a theater and you can't have filth like that on TV," Tywin countered, poking his finger out at his son.

Beth approached with two plates in her hands. "Here you go. One chef salad and one small gyro," she announced, placing the dishes in front of them. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"This iced tea is sweetened. I asked for unsweetened," Tywin said and raised his glass towards her without looking at her.

"I am sorry about that," Beth apologized, feigning sympathy and took the glass from the table. "I'll get you another one."

"Was that really necessary?" Tyrion loudly sighed after Beth was out of earshot.

"She got my order wrong. People who make mistakes should make it right."

"I assume again we are talking about me dating Shae and not the waitress...or first amendment law?"

"Yes, that is what we are talking about. And you will stop or you will no longer be employed at my law firm."

"Again, you threaten to fire me? If I had a nickel for every time you threatened to fire me I wouldn't have to work at your damn law firm anymore."

"I will fire you if you continue to see that woman."

Tyrion only had one defense against Tywin's pledge to fire him. Tywin didn't care for his son, but he did care for his name, and knew that's all Tyrion had at the moment. "If you fire me I'll be sure to know that I saw her. Everyone will know I saw her multiple times and multiple ways. Everyone will know how unethical your law firm is. And everyone, everywhere, will know have terrible your son is."

"You wouldn't do that," Tywin rolled his eyes at his son.

"You give a shit about the Lannister name. I don't," Tyrion growled as he threatened the only thing his father cared for.

Beth again came into view, Tywin fumed at his son, and their bullshit argument began again. "Just because you want something...to be on television doesn't mean it should be allowed on television."

Beth placed the new drink in front of Tywin. "Here you go. Anything else?"

"No, thank you," Tywin curtly replied and again did not look at the cute brunette. She looked to Tyrion who hastily shook his head in response.

"It doesn't matter what I want, or don't want, or what you think is right or wrong. People should be allowed to express themselves," Tyrion declared and drummed his fingers on the table. Beth continued to linger around the table. She wiped down a nearby table with a rag and then bused another nearby table. Tywin noticed as well, but wasn't nearly as amused.

"People can express themselves...they just need to express themselves in a manner that is in the public's best interest."

"And who decides what is the public's best interest?" Tyrion asked, unsure at this point what exactly they were arguing about. He just knew his father was wrong, he was right, and he would pay hundreds of dollars to see Beth in a thong.

"You know who does," Tywin said, grunting in anger.

"But most people do not! It isn't fair, it isn't free!" Tyrion bellowed at his father. Not only was he pissed about the Shae situation but he was pissed at his father's opinion on his the vague made-up censorship argument they made up.

"Girl," Tywin sharply hissed at Beth who continued to linger. His father apparently had enough of this interloping waitress.

She turned her head and walked a couple steps closer to him. "Can I get you anything?"

"You seem to have quite an interest in what we are talking about while you pretend to clean, so maybe you can better explain to me my son's position on the subject." Tywin locked eyes with Beth for the first time and unlike everyone on the planet Earth the young girl didn't cower before the might that was Tywin Lannister.

"Well, I am not sure exactly you are talking about, but it sounds like a debate on the first amendment and television regulations. You seem to believe that the government should be allowed to regulate anything that is aired on TV because it is in the public's trust while your son believes that the FCC is not democratic. And since no one votes for the the FCC and they have great power over what is aired on television, he's right...now, if you will excuse me," she said walking back towards the kitchen with a couple of dirty dishes.

They sat for a moment in stunned silence, both men surprised she was able to make out their half-assed angry legal gibberish.

"Heh, she made a better argument then you did," Tywin chuckled at the girl. "Maybe I'll hire her instead."

"You could never employ her. She wouldn't listen to your bullshit."

"People may tell me what they think if they actually have a thought to share."

"Well, here's a thought...I will continue to see Shae and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

"You will stop seeing that woman," Tywin said as he rose from the table, dropping a ten and a five on the table for the bill. Based on the price of the meal, he left no tip for Beth.

"Good tipper," Tyrion sighed.

"I'm going back to work," he said and briskly exited the restaurant, leaving most of his salad uneaten.

Tyrion sat in silence as he gnawed on his gyro. He thought on what his father said, on what Shae meant to him, and how Beth was not only an astounding ass but seemed to have a sharp mind. Still furious he reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone, flipped it open, and dialed a familiar number.

"Delta Dental, this is Shae. How can I help you?"

"Hi there. Are you free for lunch?"

_This is a dental booty call I've made before. _

"I just got back from the doctor...but yeah...I can make that work. Your place at noon?"

"Works for me," Tyrion answered with a grin.

"See you there," Shae purred and hung up the phone.

Tyrion took a final bite out of his G=gyro and decided to get going. He wanted to make sure his apartment was tidy enough before Shae got there. Tyrion shook his head at his father's behavior. Not only was Beth a cute girl, but she was actually a great waitress. He threw down two twenty-dollar bills and walked away from the table. Before he left he stopped at the door and had a thought.

_What the fuck. What's the worst that can happen? _

Tyrion walked back to the table and placed his business card on the table. He quickly wrote a note at the bottom of the card and waltzed out of Harren's Hall.

**Lannister, Lannister, & Lannister**

**Tyrion Lannister, Esq. **

**Divorce Law Specialist **

**Office Phone Number: 526-647-8377**

_**715-968-6821 - My loads are always the right size.**_

_Hopefully I'll be seeing you again Beth. _

**May 16h 2003 (or the day Arya moved out)**

**Sansa**

It was probably only about twenty or so minutes but it felt like a lifetime moving the boxes out of Arya's room. The easiest path to the U-Haul parked in the Stark driveway was walking through the kitchen and then to the front door. Normally this would be easy, but with her mother sitting at the kitchen table sipping her tea and her discontent simmering to the surface, the three seconds spent in the kitchen was an eternity. Arya volunteered to stay in her room to dissemble her desk and and book shelves. She claimed she could do it the fastest, but that wasn't the real reason. Gendry and Sansa both knew that Arya wouldn't be able to stand the walks in front of their mother. She wouldn't break under the pressure like Sansa would. No, she would erupt in an explosion of expletives and rage.

From quick conversations Sansa had with Gendry as they moved the boxes down the stairs, Sansa understood way Arya was so angry. When they told her mother and father there was a huge fight between her mother and Arya.

_** "But, dear, I don't want you making a mistake..."**_

_** "I am not making a mistake! We've been together since high school and we love each other. This isn't a mistake!"**_

Arya and Gendry made their case and went to pack. After that her father came upstairs to her room and told Arya they were not happy with her choice and they would be cutting her off. Sansa had no idea how Arya was going to afford her last year at school on her own, but knowing Arya, she had some kind of plan. Thankfully, Arya and Gendry knew this might happen and they expected it.

Gendry headed back to his house to finish up his packing and Arya stayed back to finish up hers. Around lunch time Arya reappeared at his house in tears, apparently just having run from her house to his after having another fight with their mother.

_**"I'm not a child any more. I can make my own decisions! You can't just ground me anymore!"**_

_** "I'm your mother and I am always going to try to protect you! Even if it is from yourself." **_

_** "Protect me from myself? What a load of shit! You barely know me! I am not even sure sometimes if you like me!**_

_** "I love you Arya! That's why I will always protect you." **_

_** "I know you love me...but can't you just trust me?!" **_

_** "I wish I could...but I can't. I love you...but I can't trust you."**_

Now here they were, having just brought down the last load of boxes and deconstructed furniture. The thing left was Arya's large oaken dresser. They decided to take it together with Arya and Sansa lifting on the same side. The entire trip the large dresser teetered as they rambled down the stairs. They were stopped in the kitchen by her father, who ordered them all to drop it and helped Gendry rest of the way.

_At least Dad is still willing to help out. _

When they got to the U-Haul her father looked impressed by their packing. "You did well. When I moved out, half the load flew to one side at the first turn. I think you two will be okay."

"Thanks," Gendry responded with a huge grin on his face.

The four of them stood around for a moment until, without warning, Arya rushed to her father and hugged him. After the surprise, he hugged back and tousled her hair. After the embraced Arya told everyone, "I think we are going to get going."

"Arya, you should at least say goodbye to her," her father instructed his daughter. Arya looked up to her sister and Gendry who both nodded slightly. She sighed her approval and together they went back into the house. She allowed her father and sister to move in front of her and waited for Gendry at the door. Sansa looked over her shoulder and noticed she motioned for his hand and he reached out for hers. They walked down the hall behind Sansa and their father. Their mother still sat alone at the table, brooding over the life her daughter had chosen without her permission.

Arya approached her mother who looked up to her. "We are gonna to get going," she said and her mother simply stared at her with vacant stare. Arya rolled her eyes in frustration and asked, "what, am I not your daughter anymore?" Again, the blank face did not respond. "I don't know the next I am going to come back," Arya said with growing desperation, trying to prompt any response out of her mother.

"Arya, don't do this. This is your home," her mom finally said as her voice broke. Arya knew her mother loved her and she was about to break her heart but picking Gendry over her.

_The sad thing is only their mother demanded that she pick between Gendry and her._

Arya looked at her mother for a moment and then reached into her pocket. She took out her key chain and removed a key. It was Arya's house key, the one their mother gave her over ten years ago. She always told them they had those keys so they could always come home. Her mother stared at the at the key that was placed next to her. Arya looked away from her mother and coldly uttered something Sansa would never forget.

"Goodbye...Caitlin."

The world stopped for a moment. Everyone was in shock as Arya rushed to her father and gave him another hug. This one was quick as she pulled away after a moment and did the same with her sister who didn't even have the time or thought to respond. Arya motioned her hand down the hall and Gendry began to follow out of the house. He gave a quick wave to Sansa and Ned who both stared at him with astounded expressions. As he followed Arya down the hall, Sansa realized her mother had began to cry at the table. Her mother had never cried in front of Sansa or any of her children before. Sansa was torn on what to do. She had a mother and a sister in pain. But in the end she knew what she had to do.

Sansa sprinted down the hallway towards the front door. Arya and Gendry were already outside and Sansa could hear her sister holding back quiet sobs.

"Arya!" Sansa yelled off the porch and ran to her sister. Without a thought they hugged again.

"You going to be okay?" Sansa asked her sister and the only reply she got was a sob. Arya couldn't say anything and in that moment Sansa saw they Arya knew what this meant. Everything was going to be different now. As the embraced ended, Sansa looked at her sister and the man she loved.

"Take good care of her," Sansa told Gendry, unable to think of anything else. It was unnecessary advice because that was all Gendry ever did.

"I will," he said as he took Arya's hand and they made their way into the truck. Sansa stood alone and watched the truck pull way.

**AN:**

**For the record, I recycled a scene from the other story. I couldn't think of any other way to tell the story of 'the key' and the scene I wrote with Sansa didn't work for me. **

**The number at Lannister, Lannister, & Lannister is actually the letters "Lannisters" if you use a keypad. **

**Next time – the first part of the story comes to a close as Sansa deals with the unintended consequences of her tryst with Joffery and Tyrion deals with an unexpected problem. **


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 (or why has God forsaken my bladder?)**

**November 27, 1998 (or a few weeks after 'The Joffery Incident')**

**Sansa**

Sansa's relationship with the toilet had changed throughout her life. She vaguely remembered the small adorable purple Minnie Mouse 'potty system.' In fact it was a petite decorative plastic bin she pooped and peed in. But she loved it. When she successfully went potty her mother was so happy. Sansa's earliest memory was her mother giving her a Hersey's Kiss whenever she 'did her business' in the purple potty. She was so proud of herself and to this day she oddly desired chocolate while using the bathroom. Things were more complicated now. Potty time wasn't fun anymore and she didn't get a chocolate. It hurt.

The white porcelain was cool against her skin as she balanced on the toilet seat. Normally it wasn't hard to sit on the toilet, but lately she was apprehensive knowing what was going to come. Her body prepared for the unfortunate sensation that now accompanied her urinating...which she was doing more then she wanted to. It was the same over and over ever since her mistake. It burned as she voided her bladder and she fought back her whimpers and hoped no one could hear. She had fought back the pain almost two weeks now. She flushed the toilet and watch the water swirl down the drain like her life was swirling out of her control. It was more simple with the purple piss pot. Her life didn't swirl...her mom would just clean it up.

_Maybe this is my punishment for my sin. I know I did bad...but why has God forsaken my bladder? _

Sansa had never felt so alone in her entire life. It had been a few weeks since her night with Joffrey. A night she wished she didn't have to remember, the images looped in her mind like a CD player with a broken repeat function. She could still smell breath, which reeked of bear, and could feel his groping hands, which made her skin crawl. Ever since then Joffrey had been distant from Sansa. He had began to sit closer to Margery at lunch and only spoke with Sansa when she asked him a direct question. She didn't know why Joffrey didn't talk to her anymore and why his eyes didn't have that glimmer they should have after they consummated their love. Sansa thought of turning to Margery, but since she had grown uncomfortably close to Joffrey lately it didn't seem to be the best option. And worst of all, she couldn't tell her mother. She could **never **tell her mother. Just the thought of telling her mother the three little words, 'I had sex,' caused her spine to tighten in stress and agony.

Her mother would never forgive her for what she did. There was no ambiguity in her mother's instruction on how her children should act when it came to sex. It was a thing that should only happen in marriage and God would punish the sexually immoral and adulterous. She was taught that she had to ask for forgiveness and god would forgive her if she was repentant. Her father would probably forgive her, but her mother never would. For as much as her mother spoke of Jesus, and forgiveness, she knew her mother enough to know forgiveness eluded her. Cat Stark rarely forgive and never forgot. Maybe what she did actually was unforgivable. Maybe she deserved to writhe in pain as she went to the bathroom. Maybe she was sexually immoral and deserved even more punishment.

_Don't think of that as a punishment. Even if you are...you know...it isn't a punishment. It's a gift. A terribly...terribly...TERRIBLY timed gift. But still a gift. _

Sansa didn't know how much longer she could keep her secrets...they ate away at her from the inside. They begged to get out and unleash havoc upon Sansa's life. They had to get somehow but there was no one to help Sansa wrangle the beasts.

_I have no one to talk to. Well except maybe..._

Sansa made her way to Arya's bedroom door and knocked twice.

"It's open," her sister said and Sansa went inside. Her sister was all she had left at this point. She had brothers but they wouldn't understand. Hopefully Arya would be Sansa was about to tell her sister everything.

_Even that my period is three days late. _

**October 31, 2003 (or the morning of 'That Halloween')**

**Tyrion**

Tyrion didn't think it was _that_ skeevy that he a had a 'booty call' group in his contacts list. He didn't go to that list too often, maybe five or six times a year, but he did have to admit the list was ever-growing.

_Let's see, Katie, Lisa, Michelle, and now Shae. _

Shae was always destined to end up in the booty call list. Their relationship, at least the way he looked at it, was just a long-term booty call. It was, of course, a little longer term than his usual dalliances, but it, like all the ones before and all the ones that would follow, just died over time. Tyrion always got bored with the woman he was once intoxicated with and fell out of touch with her. Normally that time would be fifteen minutes after he slept with her. He had to give Shae credit, most women could barely hold his attention for more than a night, and she had a firm grasp on him for almost four months.

That was all over now. Shae's divorce was nearly finalized and he would only see her one more time regarding her case. In fact, the last time he had seen her was three weeks ago. Their plans for a late night meeting were dashed by a nagging stomach problem Shae had been dealing with. It was the second time she had canceled on him and he got the feeling she was also growing sick of him. He couldn't blame her – there was always an expiration date on their relationship. They had opened up the gallon of milk and their relationship did not survive the sniff test.

Truthfully, no longer seeing Shae was all for the better. Ever since Tywin threatened him at lunch, Tyrion and Shae were more careful and no longer ventured out in public together. That didn't help with his father in the short-term. Tywin saw to it that Tyrion's plate was filled by giving him seven new cases. He could certainly handle it but he didn't enjoy his father prying into his life. Once Shae was no longer his client and it was clear that Tyrion was no longer seeing her in any capacity, his father would relent.

_I love that my last name is Lannister. My father can't do anything to harm his precious name. _

Soon enough Shae would just be one of the girls Tyrion had. He would have the memories of their time together and that was all he wanted. It was what it was and he wasn't about to try to change that.

At least, that's what he thought as he sat alone in his office and his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and read the name 'Shae' on the caller ID.

**November 27, 1998 (or a few weeks after 'The Joffery Incident')**

**Arya **

When Sansa walked into her room, Arya instantly felt annoyed. She thought it was one of her brothers wanting to go see a movie or something. Anything to get her out of the fucking house. She'd been grounded for 'mouthing off' to Aunt Lysa last night at dinner.

_If mom keeps me in here for my entire life I won't make any new friends and I'll become a crazy cat lady like her lovely sister. _

But, no, it was fucking Sansa who had just entered her room. She was unbearable during yesterday's Thanksgiving feast and relentlessly pestered her younger sister with annoying questions, all of which centered around Gendry.

_ 'How's Gendry doing, Arya? Are you going to see Gendry during the Thanksgiving break? How come I saw you two making out the other day?' _

Maybe she didn't ask that last question exactly but Arya knew Sansa wanted to. She was a dog with a bone and a bone was what Sansa thought existed between Arya and Gendry. It was all because Sansa had caught Arya and Gendry in a number of compromising positions and had jumped to the wrong conclusion that they were dating.

_Two friends can fool around. I mean dry humping and some over the top action is just second base. Friends can occasionally go to second base now and again...or every time they hang out. I mean, if we went to third base, that would be totally different._

Sansa was always a pain in Arya's ass, but she had somehow been worse lately, which Arya didn't even think that was possible. Ever since that night Sansa went out with Joffrey for a 'big night', Sansa had turned from a nagging annoyance to an insufferable albatross around Arya's neck. Everywhere Arya turned it seem as it Sansa was there asking stupid questions about her and Gendry that made _huge _assumptions. Assumptions that Arya and Gendry had in fact done way more than just petting. Questions that implied that they had thread the needle, laid the pipe, knocked their boots together, hit a grand slam, hide the salami...that they had sex.

_Not that would be the worst thing in the world. _

Arya still found it very rude. She has been painfully clear that Gendry was not her boyfriend, but rather a very close, nay, her best friend...that she often did fun things with and frequently made out with.

_I mean, that doesn't make him my boyfriend. How could Sansa think Gendry would be my boyfriend...I mean really..._

And now that rude individual had made her way into Arya's room. It was of course Arya's fault, because, much like a vampire, Sansa would not enter a room without being invited in.

"What do you want?" Arya asked.

"Nothing..." Sansa answered as she lingered at the door for a moment. She seemed tense and appeared to dance with the door, moving towards it and back several times.

_Stop doing the hokey pokey with the door...and stop assuming I'm doing the hokey pokey with Gendry. _

"Okay..." Arya answered and went back to reading _Tess of the d'Ubervilles_, a novel she was forcing herself through just to say she read it. A moment later Arya heard her door close. She looked up and excepted to see Sansa gone but instead her sister had moved to Arya's bed and sat next to her sister.

"Ummm...hi. I thought you wanted 'nothing.' Can't you get 'nothing' somewhere else?"

"No...I...ummm...have something I wanted to talk to you about."

"It's not about Gendry, is it?" Arya asked. Not that Gendry was on her mind or anything. She was going to see him after dinner tonight once he was done with some family stuff...assuming she could bullshit an apology to her mother that she would believe. It wasn't bothering her that she hadn't talked to him for more than a couple minutes since lunch on Wednesday. It wasn't a big a deal at all. It, of course, would have been nice if Gendry could have gotten away to talk last night, but some of his family was over. But, whatever, no big deal...Gendry definitely wasn't on her mind.

"No...it's not about Gendry," Sansa answered in a somber tone.

"Okay," Arya sighed, far more receptive to her sister whens he knew it wouldn't be about Gendry, and curious at what was causing sadness in her sister's voice. "What's up?"

Sansa sat for a moment and nervously looked up at Arya with an unsettling gaze. She didn't blink and her bottom lip began to tremble. Then Sansa said five words that changed everything.

"I had sex with Joffery."

"What?"

"...I had sex with...Joffery."

_ EWW! Fucking EWW! Fucking EWWWWWWW!_

"Dude! Fuck! You had..." Arya stopped herself short before she yelled the important part. "...sex with Joffery?"

"...Yes," Sansa sighed as a blush began to engulf her face. It was a mix of relief and guilt that washed over Sansa's face and Arya realized that she was probably the first and only one to know about this. Her gaze left Arya's and for the first time Arya saw her fucking perfect sister was ashamed. Arya was always the one that was ashamed. Ashamed that she didn't look good in the dress her mother laid out, ashamed she didn't know how to sit down in that dress without flashing everyone, and most of all ashamed that she hated dresses. It was always Arya that had to hide her shame and usually cover that up with a flurry of expletives. But, now here was Sansa, the perfect sister, unable to look at Arya.

_Wow...it must have been terrible if she can't look at me..._

"Okay...you slept with Joffrey. What's wrong?"

_Besides the fact that your skin might crawl off your body because you were so mean to it._

"Well...you know..." Sansa said and continued to squirm before Arya.

"What? Was it bad?"

"Well, I did it! Isn't that bad! I had sex before marriage..."

_Yes...and?_

"Are you feeling guilty Sansa? Because you have nothing to feel bad about just because you had sex. Then again...sex with Joffery..."

"Don't be mean to Joffery. He was...gallant. And you're not one to judge...you're probably doing the same with Gendry."

"One. DO NOT compare Joffery to Gendry. Two. I'm not fucking Gendry. We aren't even dating."

"Yeah you are...dating that is. No matter what you say."

"No we aren't."

"So, I didn't see you two making out last week?"

_Stop stalking me and my friend who happens to have a penis. _

"This isn't about me and Gendry...you're the one who slept with Joffrey," Arya said and was sure to keep her voice down.

"I know...but..."

"But what? What's the big deal. If you regret it you can just move on..." Arya said, and then possible cause of Sansa's worries came to mind.

_ No. My sister couldn't be that stupid. _

"Sansa. You used a condom, right?"

"Well...no..."

"Sansa..." Arya growled as she clamped her hands on Sansa's shoulders, "...why not?"

"Joffery said we wouldn't have to. We were in the hot tub...and I was...you know...on top."

"You thought...that chlorine...and gravity...was birth control?" Arya hissed as her hands slithered down Sansa's shoulder blades towards her neck. She didn't wrap her hands around Sansa's neck but the urge was growing the more she heard.

"...It's not?"

"...No."

"Ohh..."

"Sansa, you need to talk to Mom _right now. _You may have gotten something from Joffrey. Like something really bad."

"Like what?"

"Something terminal. Like a baby."

"A baby isn't terminal."

"That's your opinion," Arya snorted. Sansa held their mother's unnatural opinion that children were 'good' and 'cute' and people should 'have them.'

_If the baby didn't erupt out of my vagina like a fucking alien out of my chest and I didn't have to clean up its shit I'd be totally into it. _

"Even if I am..." Sansa started, but was unable to finish her sentence.

"Pregnant," her sister finished her sentence with a defeated sigh.

"Yes...that...I can deal with it."

"You can't deal with it when you break a nail. How would you deal with pregnancy and then a..._baby?_"

"I...could."

"No you couldn't. You need to talk to Mom and go see a doctor. _Now_."

"I can't tell Mom! She'll be so disappointed. I can never tell her."

"Well, if you are...pregnant...I think she'll notice at some point. You don't own enough baggy clothes."

"I can't tell Mom through! She'd never talk to me again!"

"Sansa..." Arya growled as her grip tightened on her sister. Her thumbs laid on top of her sister's fine skin and Arya had to fight her urges.

_Don't choke your sister...don't choke your sister..._

"Arya...what are you doing?" Sansa asked.

"Thinking about choking you because of how stupid you are. But if I did...it might end up being a double homicide."

Arya moved her hands from Sansa's throat. She didn't know where this idea came from but she knew what she had to do. She didn't want to and it would probably feel really icky...but fuck...she had to. Arya moved closer to her sister and wrapped her arms around her, hugging her sister for the first time she could remember without being ordered by her mother.

"Arya...what are you doing?"

"Hugging you."

"Why?"

"'Cus you need it."

"Okay..." Sansa said, clearly unfamiliar with everything that was happening to her, but hugged her little sister back all the same.

"Sansa...you need to talk to Mom."

"I know...I will..." Sansa answered with a sob. "...Will you help me?"

"Yeah, I will."

**A little bit later (or family dinner)**

If Arya was told twelve hours ago she would trade a night with Gendry, a night that his mother and brother would be out of his house, for Sansa – she would think you were high and stupid. But, here she was, with her sister, in the kitchen. Jon and Rob were back in town for Thanksgiving break, but they were in the living room with the 'other boys.' Normally Arya would be there with the boys, but she had volunteered to help Sansa and their mother clean up after dinner.

_So...instead of being with Gendry...I'm hanging out with Sansa...and doing the dishes. Should have just strangled her. _

"So...Sansa. Did you want to talk about we were discussing earlier?"

"What?" Sansa asked her sister as panic streaked across her face. There was, of course, no reason for Sansa to be afraid as this was a part of the plan. Arya first suggested Sansa bring it up at dinner but she refused to show her dirty laundry in front of her brothers. So the plan changed to finish up dinner and then talk with their mom when they knew the 'boys' would be away. Arya would be there for support and Sansa would take the lead. But, alas, they were currently drying the last of the dishes and Sansa had yet to bring up the topic.

_ In fairness, I have no idea how she would do it. "Guess who has two thumbs and had unprotected sex in a hot tub?!" _

"You know...that _thing_ you wanted to talk about."

"What are you two talking about?" their mother, who was not above eavesdropping, asked.

"Ohh...nothing," Sansa lied. Sansa was never one to be assertive – being passive aggressive was her strong suit. Unfortunately for Sansa, there was no catty way to tell their mother she might be pregnant.

"Are you sure?" Arya asked again.

"Yeah, I'm fine..." Sansa sighed. She turned away from their mother and headed towards the living room. If she reached the living room, she'd never tell their mother. It had to happen now. Sansa had to see a doctor. And apparently it would be up to Arya to do this.

Luckily, Arya had a plan. Well, there were two plans. The first was just to tell their mother what was happening. Arya couldn't do that though. Even if it was the right thing to do, she couldn't betray Sansa's trust like that. As Arya saw her sister head towards the living room she knew the only option left was 'Plan B.'

Goddammit_ Sansa...you SO-O-O-O-O owe me. Here we go..._

"Mom...I had sex with Gendry," Arya lied to their mother.

"What?!" Their mother hissed in a hushed tone. Sansa spun around at her sister's words and come back towards the kitchen.

"Yeah. I had sex with Gendry. A couple of weeks ago..." Arya said to her mother who was aghast. Her face began to transform in a mixture of disgust, shock, and shame. Her mother didn't know how to deal with this news and her eyes showed the terror and anger that had gripped her. Arya began to melt under her mother's fiery gaze and hoped that Sansa would speak up soon.

_She fucking better. _

"...I was **_stupid_**and didn't use a condom. I think I need to go see a doctor."

"Arya...I can't believe this," her mother sighed as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

"I'm sorry Mom...I'm not proud of what I did. I know it was a mistake."

"Yes, it was," her mother sternly told her and didn't look at her youngest daughter.

"Will you schedule a gyno appointment for me?"

"Of course," her mother told her.

"And...you still love me?"

"...Of course Arya..." her mother seemed to groan. Arya wasn't sure if her mother was lying or just couldn't bear to look at her sinful daughter.

"Well..." Arya sighed and locked eyes with her sister. Sansa stood perfectly still, seemingly incapable of moving. Sansa saw that telling their mother she had sex didn't end the world, but she did see the disgust on their mother's face.

"Sansa..." Arya growled. "You don't have..._anything_...to say?"

"Umm...no..." Sansa quietly answered.

"Okay...fuck this," Arya announced and spun back towards their mother. "Mom...I lied."

"What?"

"I didn't have unprotected sex in a hot tub." Her mother continued to look dumbfounded. Her world at the moment was a snow globe that Arya continued to shake like a gleeful child. Arya shot a Sansa one final look. Sansa didn't say anything. "I didn't have unprotected sex in a hot tub...but Sansa did."

"_What?!"_ their mother shrieked. If she was shocked that Arya had sex, it was unimaginable that Sansa would have done it.

"She was too worried to tell you," Arya told her mother. "Isn't that right...Sansa." Her sister moved towards them and her face again turned deep red. Arya felt a pang of guilt flood her at betraying her sister. But it was for her own good. Not to mention Arya wasn't going to deal with her mother thinking she was pregnant. If that was going to happen she was at least going to enjoy sex first.

"Yeah...I'm sorry Mom..." Sansa weakly said, and their mother was almost bowled over by the admission.

"Well...okay...I'm going to..." Arya offered and slipped out of the kitchen towards the living room.

_The living room, my bedroom, Mars, anywhere but that kitchen at this moment. _

**A few days later **

**Sansa**

The last couple of days had been hell for Sansa. After Arya told their mother what Sansa had done, everything had become a blur. She remembered her father coming in and being 'very disappointed.' She remembered Rob overhearing their conversation in the kitchen as he made his way to the bathroom. She remembered being exiled to her room for her 'poor choices' and being told that on Monday she'd be going to the doctor.

The topic of the 'bun that might have been slid in your oven' as Arya described it, was not discussed with anyone besides her sister. Word immediately spread throughout the family and Sansa knew she now at the center of every whispered conversation around her. At first the rumor was that Arya was pregnant, which led to some hair-brained scheme by Rob and Jon to go beat up Gendry. As if that would make Arya any less pregnant. As Sansa understood it, there was no plot to go beat up Joffrey, but she could have missed it.

The only one that Sansa really talked to was Arya...amazingly. Of course, talking to Arya about this issue was like talking to a mongoose about snakes. Everything Arya said reeked of anger at her sister for being so stupid. Not about the sex but about the lack of 'protection.' Sansa couldn't disagree, but didn't understand Arya's view on babies. Sansa's possible pregnancy wasn't ever seen as a good thing on any level. It was almost as if she never wanted a baby - which Sansa couldn't understand.

Dealing with this issue had bewildered for Sansa because no one talked about it the same way. Sansa didn't even like using the words 'pregnant,' or 'STD', whereas Arya used the words 'fuck' and 'problem' about twenty times in their conversations about the matter. Their mother never talked about what might be wrong. She only said 'we'll deal with everything after your doctor's appointment.' To Arya, being pregnant was a problem, and to her mother it was 'anything' – it was an unnameable thing that she couldn't even bring herself to discuss. Sansa was torn because she didn't want to be pregnant, but the idea of having a baby had enchanted her since she was told she would have the chance to do it when she was six years old. It was an overwhelming thing at the moment – like a shark that slowly swam towards her that was so terrifying huge she couldn't see anything around it. But if she was pregnant, she'd make it work. She'd have a baby to love the rest of her life. Or at least that is what she wanted to focus on.

Soon she would find out if the shark would get her. Sansa Stark had spent her entire life being told to not show her 'private' parts to strangers. She had been recently scolded, reprimanded, and ground until the end of the year because she allowed another person to use her private parts. She couldn't get past the irony at the moment that a stranger was putting on a latex glove and touching her private parts, and her mother not only condoned this behavior, but she was paying for it.

"Well, I have some good news for you," Dr. Targaryen said as she removed her index finger from Sansa.

"You do?"

"Yes, you are most likely not pregnant."

"How do you know?" Sansa asked. The test her mother gave her the other day, and Sansa painfully urinated on, said she wasn't pregnant, but she didn't believe it. The only way this terrible dream ended was a baby it seemed.

"Well, because you're on your period right now dear," the blonde doctor said with a small laugh. "It is possible that you are spotting right now, that does happen, but I doubt it. All the same, we'll run a blood test and verify that you're not pregnant."

"Ohh, that's good," Sansa said softly, hoping that soon she could put her legs down and felt stupid she hadn't noticed her period earlier in the day.

The doctor stood between Sansa's legs with a clipboard in her hands. "I see here that you had unprotected sex within the last month. But beyond that, no other symptoms were listed...did you come here today just make sure you weren't pregnant?"

"Well...yes..."

"Sansa, if there is anything else wrong you need to tell me."

"Well, sometimes when I pee...it burns and hardly anything comes out."

"Ahh, that's more normal than you'd expect," the doctor said with a sigh as she wrote something down.

Sansa propped her head up to get a better view of her physician. "What do you mean? Is that another sign of pregnancy?"

"Oh, no, no, no. You probably have a UTI...a urinary tract infection."

"I do?"

"Yeah, it happens to a lot of women after their first time. Our reproduction system is a wonderful thing, but it certainly has some design flaws. Bacteria can easily get in during sex. We women have a damned small urethra. I'll give you an antibiotic, be sure to stay hydrated, and it will clear up in a couple of days."

"Really? It's that simple?" Sansa asked. After painfully peeing for the last couple of weeks, Sansa was sure that had to be more consequences for the horrible thing she did.

_More consequences besides my mother barely being able to look at me. _

"No, you should be good. You can put your legs down and get dressed. I'll be back in a couple of minutes and together we'll go talk to your mom."

"Thanks," was all Sansa could weakly mutter as the doctor left the room. After Sansa got dressed the doctor told her mother that she had a UTI but was not pregnant. Her mother seemed relieved but just as angry. They went to the pharmacy later that day and picked up Sansa's pills. Sansa said nothing, unable to speak under her mother's glare. Her mother said nothing as well. They were strangers to each other – Cat Stark unable to look at the girl who had sex with Joffery, and Sansa Stark shocked that her mother wasn't there for her.

The consequence Sansa would have to deal with was that her mother would never look at her the same. She was no longer her mother's little girl. She was someone else. And she wasn't ready for that.

**October 31, 2003 (or the morning of 'That Halloween')**

**Tyrion**

Tyrion answered his phone. "This is Tyrion," he said to Shae, a change from his usual "hey-y-y-y creamy."

"...Hi Tyrion."

"Hi...what's wrong?"

Three little words can change everything. And everything changed for Tyrion at that moment.

"Tyrion, I'm pregnant."

**End of Part One **

**AN:**

**I wanted to thank everyone for your continued support, reviews, and follows. I've been blown away by the reaction I've gotten with this story. Thanks for all the support and I promise some Tyrion/Sansa action coming up. **

**In Part Two (or Tyrion's Amazing-Psychedelic-Halloween-Adventure!) – Shae's unsettling revelation leads to an unforgettable Halloween that Tyrion will never be able to remember. And we meet the 'Kingslayer,' the 'Bride,' and see Sansa and Tyrion's first date. **


	6. Chapter 5

**Part Two (or Tyrion's Amazing-Psychedelic-Halloween-Adventure!)**

**Chapter 5 (or disgusting, slobbering, pungent, plump hog)**

**November 21, 2003 (or the first date)**

**The Giggling Girl **

Serendipity. Sansa adored that word. When she looked it up she found it meant a happy accident, a pleasant surprise, or a fortunate mistake. Serendipity explained where she was now. She was on the rich side of town a place she saw but never went. The Gold Tooth was just a couple blocks away from Starbucks, and she drove past it every day, but had never been inside. The cheapest meal was at least forty dollars and she could never afford that much for one meal. It was a large black building with huge tinted windows framed in gold - simple but elegant. The awning over the entrance was black with gold trim, the table cloths black with gold trim, and the wait staff wore black button up shirts with gold buttons. Even when she went to the bathroom she found black and gold speckled tiles.

It was serendipity that Tyrion came back to see Sansa at Starbucks again. The dashing stranger that consumed her dreams after he appeared in her life for a cup of coffee. It wasn't fair she forgot to ask his name or at least take a peek at his credit card so she wouldn't have to ask. She thought she would never see him again, but she was wrong. The stars aligned and compelled Tyrion to go get another vanilla latte on the only night that week Sansa was working. He strolled back into her life, just as dashing, just as smart, just as funny as the first time. Sansa tried to act causal, like she wasn't hopelessly smitten, but she was probably horribly awkward. She probably said all the wrong things and seemed like a stupid, gangly, ginger girl. Smart, funny men were never attracted to Sansa. Fate had deemed it necessary that she only attract douche bags and closeted gay men. Tyrion wasn't either of those. When he asked if Sansa wouldn't mind going out to dinner sometime, she was more than happy to oblige. Not only was she dying to, she really didn't have a choice it seemed. Who was she to spit in the face of fate?

She was proud of the outfit she picked out for the night. Admittedly it was her seventh option and it took fifty minutes to get there, but when she looked in the mirror, it was worth the trip. The first outfit she tried, the jean skirt and green sweater, was too modest, she wasn't a prude. The sixth outfit, the mini-skirt with the blue halter top, showed too much skin, and she wasn't a slut. The answer was a little black dress. The answer was always a little black dress, with the black pumps and her red purse with the black chain on it. It was so obvious in retrospect. What Tyrion wore only further proved it was fate. He wore a black buttoned up shirt and a radiant red tie that showed off his gorgeous blond mane of hair. How did he know to wear that? Their outfits matched and they didn't even plan it. It was fate. It was a miracle. It was serendipity.

"Enjoying the chicken?" the dashing Tyrion asked midway through the meal.

"Yes, it's very good. What's it called?" Tyrion had recommended it, and it sounded tasty. It was soaked in a sauce that had a rich yet mellow flavor.

"Chicken Marsala. It's a wine based sauce with mushrooms," he said with a chuckle. He had such a sexy voice, deep and husky, and sometimes when he said certain words she couldn't help but shiver. He wasn't that tall, in fact he wasn't much taller than Arya. If he had a twin, they would have to stand on each others shoulders to equal Sandor's height. But with his voice he towered over all others.

"What's so funny?" Sansa asked.

"Ohh, just...you already asked me that."

"I did?"

"Yeah, when you were ordering you asked me what Chicken Marsala was."

"Ohh," Sansa said and felt her face devoured by blush.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

"It's just, I've never had it before. Actually, I've never been in a place this fancy before."

"Don't be embarrassed, it's cute," h told her with a smile. He had such nice teeth. They were perfectly straight and shimmering white.

_He probably flosses. He seems like the type of guy who would gloss. He would take the time and effort to properly take care of his teeth. _

"Really? You think it's cute?" Sansa couldn't help but ask.

"I think mostly everything you do is cute," he said, and Sansa swore he winked at her.

"Ohhh, stop," she said and could feel her face redden even more.

"Even now, when you're blushing like that, it's pretty cute. I think that shade is called 'blushing cute ginger girl' in the Crayola sixty-four pack."

What happened next was the worst moment in Sansa's entire life. Painful sex in a hot was nothing compared to this. Being stranded at a lake, naked and freezing to death, was nothing compared to this. That weird candle wax thing Sandor was into was nothing compared to this.

Sansa snorted. He told his funny, charming joke, and she snorted. Like a pig. Like a plump hog. Like a disgusting plump hog. Like a disgusting, slobbering, pungent, plump hog. She was supposed to have a cute little laugh, with a cute little lilt, that he was supposed to add to the list of things he found cute about her.

But, she snorted.

Time seemed to freeze as shame began to crush her. It pressed against her head and her sides and caused her to squirm. She wasn't sure if the waiter heard her but she wouldn't be surprised. She wouldn't be surprised if someone in Kansas heard that snort. Everyone heard it.

Tyrion heard it, but he didn't say anything. He just tilted his head to the side and gave her a look. "Now, that wasn't cute."

"I know...I'm sorry, I can't believe..." Sansa sputtered.

"That was just plain sexy," he said with a laugh.

"Ohh, now you're just messing with me."

"It was. Not many women can laugh like that and make it cute. It was even refined."

"Really?"

"Sure, you make it work," he said with a shrug and took a sip of his wine.

Sansa just giggled. It was the same giggle she had when she was a stupid little girl. She flipped her hair carelessly like she used to. She nibbled on her bottom lip, tasting the grape lip balm she loved, like she used to. Tyrion made her feel like a stupid little girl again.

_And I can't get enough of it. _

She loved the way he made her feel. She never wanted it to end. Hopefully it wouldn't. Maybe because fate was behind this wondrous first date, time would stop flowing, and allow them to eat this meal for the rest of their lives. Tyrion telling bawdy stories about his youth and Sansa gleefully relishing every moment of it. Sansa talking about her plans of teaching and Tyrion instantly agreeing she'd make a great teacher. She was afraid that any unexpected action would ruin the moment and she didn't want to screw this up. But, there was just one question she just had to ask. One question that had rattled around her head ever since she first laid eyes on Tyrion.

"So, Tyrion, I have a question for you."

"Red."

"What?"

"I was answering your question. I think the answer is red."

"No," she giggled. "Red isn't that answer. At least I doubt it is."

"Okay, so not red. What's your question then?"

"Well, it's kinda personal," Sansa said with a cringe, feeling uncomfortable even thinking of asking him.

"How personal?"

"Possibly very personal."

"Well, I'm a daring man. Go ahead."

"You sure?" Sansa asked.

"Yeah, shoot."

"Okay, don't say I didn't warn you," Sansa said with a deep breath, then took a sip of her wine. Sometimes she cursed her incredibly low tolerance of alcohol, but at the moment it gave her the courage she needed for this question.

"Do you remember that morning we first met...at Starbucks?"

"Not to be a smart ass, but besides this restaurant, we've only seen each other at that Starbucks. But, yes, I remember that morning after Halloween."

"Yes, that morning. I was just curious...what happened?"

"Well, I ordered a vanilla latte..."

"No, smart ass," she giggled and playfully slapped him on the arm. "What I meant was, what happened the night before you came in. On Halloween night. You said it was a long night with an interesting story."

"Ohhh, that...that is kind of personal," Tyrion said quietly, for the first time all evening growing coy. Normally Sansa wouldn't dig any deeper, but the wine told her it was better to keep on drilling until she hit something juicy. That she would find another funny story that he would tell so amazingly.

"Really? Personal? You just told me a story about one Christmas weekend where you drugged a woman, committed arson, and got to third base at a church."

"Well, that was personal, but also a lot of fun," Tyrion chuckled. Again, that chuckle. His chuckle. And the word _fun_. After that last sip of wine the word 'fun' just made her spine shiver.

"And Halloween wasn't fun?" Sansa asked and couldn't help flip her hair to the side, hoping her charms would get the better of him. She had lost all faith in her charms, but maybe she still had them. Maybe he was the one to bring her back after all the shit she had been through in her past relationships. Maybe he could make everything the way she wanted it when she was young and stupid. Maybe he was the right kind of sinner to release her inner fantasies.

_Pat Benatar hasn't led me astray before. _

"Well...that is a long story..." Tyrion stammered.

"Well, long stories are my favorite," Sansa said with an inviting smile.

"Well..."

**October 31, 2003 (or the morning of 'That Halloween')**

**The Forsaken**

Forsaken. That was Tyrion was. He was forsaken. Forsaken by fate, or God, or whatever bullshit he didn't believe in to begin with. He must have done something to anger the forces in the universe. Maybe it was that time he drugged Cersei to throw a party while their father was out-of-town. Or maybe it was the time he almost burned down this house while his sister was drugged. Or maybe it was the time he fingered a girl during midnight mass.

_That was a crazy Christmas weekend..._

It was stupid to blame his troubles on actions from twenty years ago. It didn't matter what he did back then. Karma was bullshit. The reason for his current predicament was painfully simple to him now because it was simply pleasurable during the time. The reason Shae was pregnant was because Tyrion decided to fuck her. Again, and again, and again, in numerous positions and places. But, it was inconceivable...that she had conceived.

** "**What did you just say?" Tyrion asked his long-term booty call.

"I'm two months pregnant," she repeated as Tyrion sat in stunned silence.

"But...how?"

"How?!" his booty call asked in bewilderment. "You were there."

"You know what I mean!" Tyrion yelled against his better judgment. The last thing he needed was someone over hearing this conversation. His father had finally gotten off his case about Shae. This was the last thing he needed. He need an infected scrotum before he needed this.

_If I had an infected scrotum I probably wouldn't be in this position. _

"You told me you were on the pill!" Tyrion yelled at her, regretting his volume after the fact, but unable to hide his anger and astonishment.

"I'm on the pill, but it isn't one-hundred percent effective!"

"It isn't?" Tyrion growled as he realized he had been forsaken by hormonal birth control.

"No it isn't. And they recently changed my dosage, so that might have caused it too."

"You knew they did this?" Tyrion snarled, feeling betrayed. "Why didn't you tell me to put a condom on!?"

"Don't yell at me! I didn't know I'd get pregnant, Tyrion!"

"Ohh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Why is this happening to me?" the forsaken man couldn't help but mutter under his breath.

"Happening to _you_!? Nothing is happening to _you_! I'm the one that has to give birth!"

_Wait...what? She's not going to...dispose..of the...problem?_

"Wait...you're going to keep _it_?" he bluntly asked with the subtlety of a two bulls trying to make love to a third bull in a china shop.

"No. You did not just ask me _that,_" Shae said dryly. "You did _not _just ask me **_that_**."

"What!? I was 'there' as you pointed out! Don't I get some kind of say in the matter!?"

"No! You get no fucking say!"

"So then...Shae...what are you going to do with _it_?"

"It? It's a baby. It's **_your_** baby." The word baby usually sent chills down Tyrion's spine. Never had he realized if you put the word 'your' before the word 'baby' would it induce instant nausea. It wasn't fair that his favorite activity could produce his least favorite thing.

Tyrion then ended the conversation with a few simple words. He had a knack for it.

"Wait...are you sure it's mine?"

"Ohh, you are such a fucking asshole. It's yours, you fucking piece of shit." With that, Shae hung up.

_No...no...no...no..._

Originally Tyrion had no plans for tonight. He loved Halloween. It was a tradition for him to become a creature of the night every October thirty-first. It was a glorious night where girls took the as a chance lose all their inhibitions. Tyrion was a hunter and the girls were willing prey. In his life, Tyrion had mounted Catwoman, Xena, and Raggedy Ann on Halloween. This year he didn't plan on going out. He was tired with the work load his father had piled onto him and didn't want to bother. For as amazing Halloween was, it was a heavy lift every year. The hangover would be so massive one year he wasn't one hundred percent until Thanksgiving. There would be other nights for his misadventures. He'd go home, make a drink, watch Jaws, and it would be glorious in its own right. Nowhere in any of his plans were cleaning up the feces of another creature – an activity he was now fated to. Feeding another creature. Loving another creature because it was his own. His own. His son or daughter...

_...no...no...no...NO! Fuck...fuck...fuck!_

But now it was different. The rouge sperm that decided to go against the prime directive and impregnate an egg ruined everything. If she kept it...the baby...nothing would be the same. Everything was different now. He now had the immense weight of knowing he was a father on his shoulders and he couldn't support that mantle right now. Now it was his goal to add Smurfette or Cleopatra to his list of mounted beasts. There was one way to solve his problems for a night - To drown his sorrows in a twenty-two year old.

_With a condom, and a diaphragm, with her on top, and pulling out, and having sex in a hot tub, and whatever other fucking possible birth control there is out there. _

But that's not all he had in mind. A twenty-two year old wouldn't be enough for him tonight. He needed more, he craved more, and the two white pills he popped into his mouth wouldn't be enough. The eight to ten drinks gin and tonics he was going to get wouldn't be enough. He had to have more, and lucky he had a 'friend' who could help him. After a couple of minutes of brooding and letting his little white friends melt into his body, he grabbed the phone off his desk and made a call.

"Bronn, it's me," Tyrion said as soon as he heard his 'friend' pick up.

"What do you want?" his 'friend' gruffly responded, clearly annoyed to hear from Tyrion.

"I need my usual order tonight."

"Tonight? I gave you your usual order a week ago...there's no way you already got through that much."

"I need more..._now_. Actually, no...I need more than the usual. Could you get me some Molly."

"Molly? You want ecstasy?"

_No, I'll need more than that. _

"Yeah...and some acid."

"Acid? Fuck, I haven't gotten you acid in a while. I don't even have those contacts anymore."

"I will make it worth your while if you can get me my usual order, plus my other items, by five."

"...How worth my while?" Bronn couldn't resist Tyrion making it 'worth his while.'

"Two grand," Tyrion told him. He'd have to stop at the bank at lunch, but it'd be worth it.

"Three grand," was the counter offer.

"Three grand? Fuck you."

"I'm going to have to find a new dealer for the 'other' stuff and hope to God he's not a cop. Three grand."

"Twenty-five hundred."

"Three grand."

"Fuck, okay, you win. Three grand. Be here at five," he ordered and hung up. He didn't have time for small talk. Three grand guaranteed him the drugs he wanted and a timely delivery. Tyrion had one other task. He had to convince someone to go out with him tonight and make sure he didn't get into too much trouble.

Based on the news he just got, he was going to get into a lot of trouble.

**The Kingslayer **

Jamie's father loved trophies. Once he told his son that Indians scalped their foes to prove their prowess and that the vikings raped and pillaged those they devastated. His fathertold Jamie he they did this not because it was right, or wrong, but because they could. They had won the spoils of war. Lining Jamie's wall were multiple trophies he had accumulated. His college degree, his law degree, multiple pictures with Jamie and other important people. State senators, congressmen, even one picture with the governor that his father arranged. None of those trophies were what gave Tywin Lannister pride in his son though. The greatest thing Jamie ever did for his father was encapsulated in one newspaper headline.

** 'Kingslayer' named Bar Attorney of the Year. **

The Kingslayer. In 1999, Jamie smote the mighty dragon that was the Targaryen family, who ran the King Medical Center. It made his father so proud. It sometimes made his stomach turn.

_The things you do for your father._

The Kingslayer's moment was interrupted by a knock on his door, and before he could answer, his younger brother brazenly strode into his office. "Please, come in," Jamie dryly said as Tyrion entered the room in a huff. He quickly but quietly shut the door behind him and paced about the room a few times before sitting at the chair across from Jamie.

"Make yourself at home," Jamie told his brother, who remained silent. His foot nervously tapped on the floor and his thumbs drummed on the arms of his chair.

"Did you need something?" Jamie asked to break the silence.

"Yes, I need you to go out with me tonight."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm going drinking tonight. I want you to go with me."

"Tyrion," Jamie sighed, "I don't feel like babysitting." Jamie had made the mistake of going out on Halloween before with Tyrion. It was his brother at his best and his worst. His impressive lechery always triumphed over the better judgment of females on this night. But it would be up to Jamie to collect him the next morning from whatever shit bag hotel or ratty apartment building his brother inevitably ended up at.

"You wouldn't have to babysit. You could go and enjoy yourself. When was the last time you actually had good night out, or have you inherited dad's allergy to fun?"

"I'm not allergic to fun."

"When was the last time you got laid?" Tyrion frankly asked with a cock eyebrow, daring Jamie to answer honestly.

Jamie had a cutting retort but it didn't come to mind fast enough as he found himself distracted. Distracted mostly because the correct answer wasn't weeks like it once was, or even months, it was now about a year.

"It's been a while hasn't it?" he asked with a leering grin. "Wouldn't it be fun to go out and meet a nice girl?"

"Nice girl? At a bar? On Halloween?"

"Don't discriminate. There are plenty of nice girls out there tonight. They're just dressed up."

"Like sluts?"

"Yes! Slutty witches, and slutty nurses, and slutty cheerleaders...which in my experience is redundant. But it doesn't matter. We are two young, handsome business men, in the sexual prime of our lives! Why not go out?"

"What's gotten into you?" Jamie asked. Tyrion usually needled more softly when he wanted something. Sometimes he'd bring out the big guns and guilt trip Jamie over his damn scar when he really needed something from him. But, this was different. Tyrion was salivating at going out tonight with Jamie. His brother was desperate to go out it seemed.

"What's gotten into me? What's gotten into me? What's gotten into me is the fact you haven't gotten into anyone else in over nine months by my count."

"You are truly a poet," Jamie answered with the cutting retort he had from before.

"Whatever, just...c'mon...it's been so long since we've gone out. All we ever do is talk about work or how much dad hates me. Let's go somewhere else, get drunk, and talk about those things...and then help some girls make some fun mistakes!"

"Okay, Tyrion, I'm not going out. I'm coming in tomorrow and I don't want to be hungover."

"Tomorrow? Tomorrow is fucking Saturday! You don't need to come in tomorrow. Why the fuck would you come in tomorrow?"

"Because...I'm working on a case with Dad..."

"Ohh, yes of course, with Dad," Tyrion said as he rose from the chair again and resumed the pacing he began when he first entered. Since he had come in he had yet to really sit still. "Of course with our fucking loving father."

"Tyrion, what the hell is wrong with you? What the hell are you on?"

"Nothing...well, nothing that would make me pace like this. I...have a problem..."

"Okay..." Jamie said with a nod, hoping to coax out more details.

"A _real_ problem. A huge fucking problem."

"What did you_ do_ Tyrion?"

His little brother stopped his pacing and stared at his big brother. At this moment they weren't lawyers anymore. They weren't two young, handsome business men, in the sexual prime of our lives. They were children again. Jamie was thirteen, Tyrion was eight, and they had found their father's vintage Playboy collection in the basement. They needed to keep the treasure a secret. They needed to be bonded in eternal silence about the amazing bounty they found in the old rusted trunk in the corner of their basement. So they did what any two reasonable boys would do.

In the present day Tyrion walked towards table and did what most dignified lawyers would do in this situation. He reeled his head back and with a mighty spit hocked a humongous loogie into his hand.

"Tyrion really? We aren't kids anymore. I'm not going to shake your snotty, sticky hand."

"It's important. I need to know you won't tell anyone."

"Tyrion...really?"

"It's...important," Tyrion told him with steely resolve. When Tyrion spent an hour prying open the old wooden trunk to find the hidden booty, he needed Jamie to promise he'd never tell. Their father could never find out about the Playboys. And a spitty handshake sealed them to the secret. Now, the spittle dribbling down Tyrion's palm meant that their father, or anyone else, couldn't find out about this latest secret.

_I hope he didn't kill a hobo or something. _

"Okay, fine," Jamie groaned as lightly spat into his palm and stuck it out to his brother. They were joined in that moment, blood brothers bonded in something deeper – a spit shake. They shook hands and both men grimaced as their hands rubbed together unpleasantly, the noise of their spit merging disconcerting.

"So, Tyrion...what did you do?" Jamie asked, getting out two tissues for them to clean up.

"...You know Shae?" Tyrion quietly asked.

"That client you were _never _fucking? Yes, of course. She was the focus of a lot of gossip this summer," Jamie answered and rolled his eyes.

'Yeah...well, I was fucking her..."

"You don't say...I am absolutely shocked."

"No, the shocking part was that I knocked her up."

"What?"

"I got her pregnant."

"No, you didn't."

"Yeah, I did."

"How could you be so stupid?" Jamie growled under his breath. "I'm sure you've heard of those magic latex circles called condoms."

"She said she was on the pill. That we were covered."

"Well...besides the fact you could catch something from her, you could have always covered all your bases."

"Well, excuse me. I fucked up," Tyrion grunted and begrudgingly sat back down. "I fucked up."

"Is she going to...you know..." Jamie delicately asked and then mumbled off.

"...Get an abortion?" Tyrion finished the unpleasant thought. "No, no she isn't. She was pretty certain about it."

"What, did you ask her if she was going to?"

"I may have..."

"Jesus Christ, Tyrion, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" Jamie couldn't help but yell.

"What!? You just asked me about it! Is it so bad I asked her about it?"

"Yes! It's a little more than a little uncouth."

"Fine, whatever," Tyrion shook his head. "What's done is done. And won't be undone apparently. And sevens months from now I'll be a dad. Fuck." Tyrion deeply exhaled. Jamie had seen his brother under pressure before, but not like this. Jamie had never seen Tyrion at a loss for words. "So, will come out with me tonight?"

"What? You're still on that? You shouldn't go out tonight. You have bigger things to deal with," Jamie told his brother.

"I do have big things to deal with. I plan on dealing with them by drinking until I can't see straight and fucking a co-ed dressed up like nurse! Or maybe a slutty psychiatrist! I'm sure we'd have a lot to talk about!" Tyrion exclaimed, his voice growing louder then Jamie liked with his declaration to bed a slutty medical professional.

"Tyrion. Just don't. Why don't we just stay in, have a couple of drinks, order a pizza or something, we can talk about this."

"No," he told him as got up from the chair as walked back to the door. "I'm going out tonight whether you like it or not. Whether you come or not." His brother was now threatening him. If Jamie didn't go out with him, he would terrorize the city on his own. If Jamie wasn't there Tyrion would be left to his own devices and that wouldn't be good for anyone.

"Oh, fuck. Fine. I'll go out for a couple of drinks," Jamie relented.

"Good. We'll grab a bite to eat and then head out," his little brother told him with a sly grin. "I'll stop by a little after five?"

"Sure," Jamie groaned as Tyrion left his office. Jamie still didn't want to go out tonight, but he certainly wanted a drink now.

_ Why did he have to fuck her? Why did she have to get pregnant? Dad would be less upset if Tyrion had just killed a hobo. _

**AN:**

**Thanks to all my reviews, follows, favorites, etc. It means a lot. Every time you let me know you like what I'm doing it gives me a little more reason to get back to writing.**

**Also, this might sound odd, but thanks for being so cool everyone. I enjoy writing slash fiction and I like writing about relationships. To paraphrase Homer Simpson, Relationships are the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems. But, sometimes people get super protective about their shipping and it really cramps my style. So, thanks for being so cool and letting me tell the story I wanted to. I was afraid when I had Tyrion fuck Shae, and then get her pregnant, that everyone would freak out. But, you've been awesome. **

**If I haven't mentioned it yet – I'm a guy. Sometimes it blows people's mind (in the realm of fanfiction at least). But, yep, I'm a dude. **

**I paraphrased Pat Benetar's "Heartbreaker" in this chapter - "You're the right kind of sinner to release my inner fantasy" It a song I didn't know I liked until I played it a dozen times on Guitar Hero.**

**I spelled the word "serendipity" correctly on my first attempt. Considering my dyslexia is so large It can be seen from space - it's kind of a big deal #humblegrab**

**Now for homework. I'm not saying you have to watch Kill Bill Vol. 1 and Vol. 2 before the rest of Halloween part of this story, I'm just recommending it. **

**Next time – Sansa plans a low key party with her new roommate(s). Tyrion drags Jamie out on Halloween and runs into a familiar face who is also a kindred spirit when it comes to parent issues. **


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 (or the line is really long and your bladder is really small)**

**October 26th 2003 (or the weekend before 'that' Halloween)**

**Sweetart**

"You have a lot of costumes," Sansa commented to her roommate. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon and the two (of the three) tenants of apartment 214 were planning their Halloween party next Friday. In her roommate's closet Sansa saw a silky pink dress with an exposed midriff, a police officer's uniform with a black latex skirt, a shimmering dress shaped like a fish tail with a matching bikini top, among several others. Each outfit appeared to reveal more skin than the last and they all accentuated a buxom figure.

"You have to spice it up every once in a while, ya know Sweetart?" Ros told her roommate she called 'Sweetart.' Sansa didn't know her choice of candy the day she moved in would determine the nickname she would have.

"I guess, I've just never enjoyed Halloween that much."

"But it's so much fun!" Ros exclaimed as she ran her hands along the dozen or so costumes hanging in her closet. "Every Halloween I get to be a different person for a night and each night is filled with amazing memories. The night I was a belly dancer and almost got frost bite. The night I was the little mermaid and got food poisoning from a fish fry. The time I was cop and was arrested for public urination."

"You got arrested for public urination?" Sansa asked with a laugh.

_Ros' stories were probably the greatest part of having her as a roommate._

"Sometimes in life you reach a point when the line is really long and your bladder is really small. Besides, It's only a three hundred fine," Ros dismissed Sansa's concern with a wave of her hand. "Anyway, pissing in an alley isn't my favorite memory. My favorite is the time I was Raggedy Anne and hooked up with some guy in the bathroom of a bar."

"Some guy?" Sansa asked about that choice of words. "You don't know his name?"

"Well, I could call him Frodo, but I doubt that was his real name," Ros devilish told her with a wink.

"That is a lot of memories. I think you'll get along well with Arya."

"Why's that?"

"My sister is _crazy _about Halloween. It's her favorite holiday. She freaking loves to dress up. Once when she was a kid she went as a Ninja Turtle for Halloween"

"That's not to crazy..."

"She painted her entire body green," Sansa flatly informed her.

"Entire body huh?" Ros said with a impressed nod. "Hardcore. Puts me to shame. I'm going as the Wicked Witch and I'm going to only paint my face."

"Yeah," Sansa mumbled, deciding it was a good time to mention something about Ros' plan. "It took a months worth of showers to get the green tint out of her skin."

"Ohh, I hope that doesn't happen to me. I'd hate to show up to work on Monday with a slightly green face. People wouldn't tip the bartender with the green face."

_Yeah, Ros, when guys come to your bar they look at your face. Not the show you put on with your wonderbra. _

"Well, I'm excited to meet her if she enjoys Halloween as much as you say," Ros said brimming with excitement over the party. "You already have dibs on Dorothy, but do you think she'd be okay with being the cowardly lion or something?"

"Ohh, she already has a plan," Sansa told her with a laugh.

"Ohh, yeah that's right, didn't she do something crazy like dye her hair?"

"Yeah, she said the blonde wig looked fake so I'm going to bleach her hair this week."

"That is hardcore. I like it. What's her boyfriend coming as?"

"I'm not sure. He's working full time and doesn't enjoy the holiday nearly as much as Arya, but I'm sure he'll do something."

"Well, let them know we could probably scrounge up a tin man or something in a pinch if they wanted to join our little group. We could skip on down the yellow brick together to bar together. Maybe even win Whiskey Dick's costume contest."

Sansa deeply inhaled at her Roommates plan. Things had gone so well with Ros (even if she counted her other..._reeking..._half) that Sansa didn't want to have a big disagreement over the party.

"I know you and Theon want to go out, but I defiantly want to hang out here too. Arya and Gendry are awesome, but they are practically a boring married couple."

_Not to mention with Gendry crushed from a new job, and Arya crushed from her last year at school, I promised them a quiet, relaxed night, and Margaritas. _

"How long have they been dating again?" Ros asked.

"Forever basically. At least since Freshman year of high school."

"Geez," Ros said as she looked upon the costumes and memories that hung in her closet. "I could never do that, be with one person that long. It seems so...dull."

"It's sweet," Sansa disagreed. "They constantly bicker but they really love each other. Besides, you're with Theon now for how long? Two years? You two are serious aren't ya?"

_At least I hope so. She better be at least somewhat serious about Theon considering how much I put up with. __I will not clean out another three-day old pot filled with the petrified remnants of Mac N' Cheese._

"Oh, I guess we are. Sometimes...you know," Ros began to mumble, "You go out as Raggedy Ann and...you fuck a hobbit in a bathroom."

"No you didn't!?" Sansa said as she playfully shoved Ros. "You did that when you were with Theon?"

"It was during one of our 'off-again' periods. We fought about him checking out some girl's ass, or me checking out some guy's ass...or maybe me drunkenly checking out some girl's ass..." she rambled. "I know it involved an ass somehow..."

"Anyways," Sansa said to bring her roommate back to reality. "We can totally go out to the bars if they want to. But, I want to hang out here a little first. Entertain. Make some drinks. I've never done that. I lived in the dorms my whole time in college and never got to have people over to 'my apartment.'"

"Okay, we can hang out here for a bit," Ros relented, "but Theon will probably bitch about it."

"Well, you'll need to keep your monkey on a leash then," Sansa told her with a feisty smirk.

"Well...I could, but..." she said looking back one more time to her costumes, "the leash and whip go with another outfit I have. But, I guess the Wicked Witch could use it too."

**October 31, 2003 (or that Halloween) **

**The Imp **

Tyrion spent three years in law school at Marquette University. It was certainty a fine school, but it's academics weren't the only reason Tywin sent him there. His father took pleasure in sending him to a catholic, Jesuit university. Tywin probably thought just because the nuns failed to subdue his son when he sent Tyrion to Sunday school when he was a child didn't mean the nuns would fail this time. Not only would his son become a lawyer. His son would finally be molded into an upstanding member of society.

_Fat fucking chance. _

Marquette had a strict honor code stating that 'it shall be the mission of all students to foster personal and professional excellence, and to promote faith, family, and safe community.'

_Why couldn't they just add, 'and every other Tuesday will be dollar shot night!'? _

His stay at Marquette was fun and he made many friends, and colleagues, but few actually knew his name. He made it a point to never refer to himself as Tyrion except when it was necessary. He had another name that became legend over time. The name 'Tyrion Lannister' could be tracked down and brought to justice for all the deviant activities he did. The Imp could not be caught though. The Imp was a shadow, a phantom, the presence in the darkness of night.

Tyrion enjoyed being 'The Imp' more then he enjoyed being Tyrion. The Imp was a free spirit and did not care for the consequences. It was Tyrion's job to deal with the consequences. The Imp started bar fights just to see who'd win, bribe bouncers to let in cute girls under twenty-one he wanted to do terribly wonderful things to, and take a shit in the vice chancellor's car for giving him a look once. The Imp was **Id** Incarnate, it was chaos, it was a cauldron full of seething excitations, it was vortex that created nothing but pleasure.

It's exactly what Tyrion needed.

The Imp didn't come out to play as much anymore. Tyrion was busy at work and even when he cut loose he did it within reason. He was now a lawyer at a respected law firm, people knew who he was. The guise of The Imp served him far less now.

_The Imp certainly meet Shae...which is why I'm currently in this situation because Tyrion would know well enough to fucking 'wrap it up' no matter what. Goddammit you are so fucking stupid Tyrion. Just relax...take another capsule of happiness..._

There was a knock at Tyrion's door as he popped a pill, the sixth of the day, into his mouth. "Come in," he said, and his 'friend' entered.

"You have my stuff?" Tyrion shoot out quickly, before Bronn could even enter and close the door.

"You're in a feisty mood today. What got your panties in a bunch?"

"Not your concern." He sternly told him. "You got my stuff?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got your felonies worth of stuff right here. You got my money?"

Tyrion went into his top desk drawer and removed a small brown paper bag stuffed with three thousand dollars in cash. This was a lot, even for Tyrion, but if tonight was going to The Imp's true second coming, it'd be worth every penny.

"Here. Three Thousand dollars," Tyrion said as he nonchalantly plopped the brown bag on his desk. The Imp wanted to appear cool like he had three grand to burn and starving for what Bronn brought for him.

Bronn snapped the bag off the table and flipped Tyrion a zip lock baggie. In it was about two or three dozen pills and four sugar cubes.

"No tabs?"

"Nope," Bronn answered with a shrug. "You wanna trip tonight, you're doing it with those."

"I don't mind. As long as I gave you three grand for pills and acid, and not Tic-Tacs and bland sugar cubes."

"I guarantee you they're good. I had to find a new guy, but he's dependable."

"Good," Tyrion said with a nod. When he said nothing else to say to Bronn, the P.I. took the hint to leave.

"One thing," Bronn said before he stepped out of the office. "You're not going to do all those tonight...right?"

"_Yes, _of course I am," Tyrion sarcastically answered. "And after I take all of this I plan on drinking some Drain-o and gnawing on some fiberglass insulation."

"Sounds like a good night," Bronn groaned as he rolled his eyes. "You're not going out alone tonight are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Good," Bronn said with a sigh of relief.

"What? Are you worried about me?"

"You die, I lose a third of my business."

"Your friendship means the world to me," Tyrion dryly said as Bronn left the room. A huge grin swept across Tyrion's face as his fumbled with the zip lock baggie.

_Tonight Tyrion's problems don't matter. It doesn't matter that he hates his father, he's addicted to Xanex, or that he just knocked up a client. It's Halloween. It's a good time to not be Tyrion._

**October 29th 2003**

**The Beautician**

_Light blond, extra light blonde, medium blonde, golden medium blonde..._

Sansa found herself combing the aisle for the correct shade of blonde. Arya had told Sansa that she needed a more golden color to her hair because her bleached hair looked sickly. It was still bewildering to Sansa that she wouldn't just go with a wig but she was adamant on looking the part.

_ 'It'll look fake and I'll look stupid. I am paying eighty bucks for this fucking costume! I might as well commit.'_

Sansa still couldn't wrap her mind around it but that wasn't unusual for the things her sister did. Sansa continued to browse the hair dyes and was pained with indecision. Arya had asked Sansa to stop at Wal-Greens to get the hair dye before coming by. Sansa wanted her to come with, but her sister had just said, 'just get me something blonde and it'll be fine.' Arya obviously didn't know the complexity of this decision. The difference between extra light blonde and extra dark blonde was vast. And what if she hated the color? Their relationship had just taken a turn in the right direction and Sansa didn't want to screw it up by deforming her hair.

_You are really over thinking it. You've been standing in this aisle for eight minutes now. Everything will be fine. Just pick a freaking blonde. _

Sansa took a deep breath and picked the golden medium blonde. She had seen the Ads for 'Kill Bill' and it looked like the right shade.

_Besides, Arya's the one that told you it wasn't a big deal. _

Sansa was excited for the chance to play with Arya's hair. She spent her entire childhood pestering Arya to let her do something cute with her hair. To braid it, curl it, or put it in a bouffant. Do something besides put it back into a ponytail when it got long. Her sister had such gorgeous hair and it was a shame she didn't do that much with.

The elder Stark daughter did have plans for her sister's hair, but she had other plans as well. Sansa had an ulterior motive today, more important than hair. There was an elephant in the room that Arya and Sansa had not spoken of yet.

_An elephant called my mother. _

Ten minutes later her green sedan pulled into the surprisingly full parking lot of Hallow Hill apartment complex. It was mostly full of college students preparing for parties they would be holding in a few days. Sansa was understandably pensive when she told Arya about the Halloween party, but was happily surprised when Arya said she and Gendry would be swing by. In fairness, Arya did use that moment to ask Sansa to help in her hair project.

_Like I wouldn't want to do this. I have been trying to do stuff with Arya's hair since I was six and she has always said no. That time I cut that gum out of her hair doesn't count. _

Sansa was still shocked when Arya opened the door. Even though she was a vital part of bleaching Arya's hair, it was bizarre to she her sister as a blonde. She still had Arya's gray eyes, which looked dark blue in the afternoon sunlight, and Arya's face was still the same, but locks of bright yellow hair draped over face.

"Hi. Oh, so don't I forget," Arya said, handing Sansa some money for the dye as they walked into her and Gendry's place. It was a small apartment, smaller than the one Ros and Sansa shared. It was poorly lit and stuffy. However, Sansa was impressed at how clean Arya had kept the place based on their time being roommates together. It smelt of cinnamon air freshener and Sansa could tell Arya had vacuumed earlier in the day.

_Either she vacuums before I come over or I happen to come over at the perfect time. _

"Here it is," Sansa said as she handed over the dye, still nervous about the color of the dye, but excited to do something with Arya she was an expert in. Arya was smarter than she was and Sansa had accepted that, but it still bothered her when they would talk about stuff and Sansa barely had anything to say.

_I'm still not sure who Kofi Annan is, or what the ACLU is. Note to self – Google those things when I get home. _

Helping Arya with her hair would be different. This was her area of expertise and based on the fact Arya handed her a twenty for the hair dye that was six-fifty, she was the one with the all the knowledge.

"I wasn't sure what color to get."

"Blonde." Arya answered cocking her head back in the obviousness of her statement.

"Well, there are a lot of blondes. I got golden medium blonde." She said taking the box out of the plastic Wal-Greens bag.

Arya took the box out of her hand and inspected it. "Yeah, that looks right," she nodded, not appreciating the effort it took Sansa to pick that particular color.

"Okay," Arya began leading towards the bathroom. "I am wearing the same shitty shirt when you bleached me the other night and have the same towels we used. I got all the hair 'stuff' out again. And we still have latex gloves." She said tapping her foot for a ground in thought. "Anything else?" She pondered placing her yellow bangs behind her ears.

"I think we'll be good." Sansa said as they walked towards the bathroom. Sansa had to work at 4:30pm at Starbucks so she wanted to get started to make sure they had time to spare. Arya went into the bathroom and Sansa said, "Don't go in yet, I have to mix the dye first. And your bathroom isn't bad, but a bit small."

Arya popped back out and asked, "You have to mix it?"

"Yes," Sansa said, trying to hold back from rolling her eyes. She wasn't bothered so much by her sister's lack of knowledge in cosmetics but more that she already looked so beautiful. When she was young she remembered teasing her sister for her gangly facial features but over the last couple of years she had fully grown into them. She was already stunning, and didn't put in any effort, when just a small amount would make her gorgeous.

_Then again I'm already freaking out seeing her blonde. If she started wearing make-up on a daily basis my head might explode. _

They sat at the table as Sansa prepared the mix in a small plastic bowl Arya had given up to the dyeing process. "How's Harren's Hall?" Sansa asked.

"Still sucks." Arya answered. "How's Starbucks?"

"Okay." Sansa responded. "How's school?"

"Okay. How's looking for a teaching job?"

Sansa tilted her head a bit and said with a chuckle, "still sucks." Both girls laughed as Sansa finished the mix and they moved into the bathroom.

Arya sat on a kitchen chair on top of newspapers. Sansa wasn't sure the dye would stain the tile but she didn't want to be the reason they didn't get all of their security deposit back. Sansa combed through Arya's hair and separated it out into different sections. The dye came with a small brush which she placed into the container and used as she began to apply the substance.

"So who are you going as again?" Sansa asked as she worked.

Arya was about to answer but then paused. "Actually...you don't know her name in the movie. She is just known as The Bride."

"So...she doesn't have a name?"

"More or less," Arya said, bobbing her head. Clad in latex gloves, Sansa put her hands around Arya's head as a friendly reminder not to move around.

"Sorry," Arya said.

"And, The Bride, she has a list of people she wants to kill?" Sansa asked.

"Yes. And Bill is at the bottom."

"So, if I am remembering all the details right," Sansa said, painting the dye to her sister's hair, "you are going out as an assassin, with a death list, who has no known name."

"In a nutshell," Arya answered.

"Why couldn't you be someone a little less..." Sansa thought for a moment, wanting to pick the correct word, "murdery?"

"What fun would that be?" Arya said, and couldn't help herself from tilting her head as she spoke.

Sansa again placed Arya's head forward. "Well, why couldn't you be someone good?"

"Like who? And if you name anyone from a Disney movie I might have to strangle you."

"Not even Simba?"

"Okay, Simba fucking rocks," she admitted and continued, "but I don't want to be a furry. So think of someone else."

Sansa didn't know what a 'furry' and had a feeling she didn't want to know. "Let's see..." she said blanking for a moment and remembered someone her sister may like. "How about Princess Leia?"

_At least sitting through those damn movies with Sandor has paid off. _

Arya thought on it for a moment. "Maybe, but she had a thing for her brother. And they kissed."

"They were into each other weren't they?"

"Why should I be someone good?" Arya asked, changing the subject from intergalactic incest.

"Why be someone bad?"

"The Bride isn't bad. Not good either. You can't place her easily," Arya replied.

"And you like that?" Sansa asked.

"I do. You don't?" she said after a moment of thought.

"I guess I like the more classical hero. The brave knight who saves the princess," she said, getting to the last section of hair.

"I'd rather be the princess who takes care of herself." Sansa couldn't help but laugh at Arya's bold statement.

"What?" Arya asked.

"Yeah, totally, you don't have a Prince Charming to take care of you," Sansa said with an enviousness snort.

"Shut-up," Arya playfully jabbed back, and Sansa could tell she wanted to move her head, but didn't want to screw up the process.

"Anyways," Arya droned, "I guess I just like complicated characters."

"If it works for you," Sansa said, hoping there had been enough small talk to properly lubricate the next topic that would cause some friction.

_Not to mention she can't run away right now without 'blonding' up the apartment._

"So, I have to ask...why haven't you asked more about mom?" She saw Arya straighten up in her chair and jerk her head upon heading the word "mom."

"Why? She's probably fine."

"She isn't," Sansa disagreed.

Wanting to change the topic back to her hair Arya asked, "How long do I need to keep this stuff in? I need to rinse, right?" Sansa did not answer and Arya looked to the mirror to face her sister. "You clever little cunt," Arya growled as she saw the smirk on her sister's lips.

"Name calling isn't nice. Tell me why you haven't called mom, or anyone else for that matter, and I will tell how you can avoid having your hair fall out."

"It won't fall out."

"You don't know that."

Arya stood up quickly and turned around to face her sister. Arya could look intimidating at times, but with her hair separated into four different sections and a white towel with golden splotches wrapped around her neck, she was hardly the furious Arya that Sansa had faced before. "Not fair," she said squinting her eyes. It was clear she was trying not to curse, because she knew that wouldn't help the situation.

"It isn't, but you haven't spoken to anyone, but me, since you moved out and I wanna know why."

"Because no one has called me!" Arya yelled, taking Sansa by surprise. "I don't know if they want to talk to me! Maybe they all think I'm a fucking slut like mom does."

"Mom doesn't think that. No one does", Sansa said, standing her ground, although there wasn't much ground in the small bathroom.

"Maybe they don't. But they have my number. What else should I think?"

"Well, you should think that the situation is fucked up," Sansa said, feeling profanity was apt at the time. "You were the first one to really disobey mom and dad. Mom feels like you abandoned her."

"What about dad?" Arya asked, and Sansa could tell the word 'abandoned' struck a nerve.

"I'm less sure. He is more quiet. I think he is just sad that it all happened."

"...And _everyone _else?"

"I would guess because I had the same feeling until you called me. It feels like you left the family and maybe want nothing to do with us."

"I did it to be with Gendry. And I didn't leave the family. I just moved out on my own," Arya said with defeated sigh.

"You should tell everyone that."

"I can't," Arya groaned, put her hands to her head, and rubbed her temples. "What if we're wrong and they all think I'm fucking whore?"

Sansa walked around the chair and knelt to face her sister. Arya looked up from her hands and was fighting back tears. She had grown so much, and was such a different person now. But some part of her was still the six-year-old who didn't want to cry in front of her sister.

"They won't think you're a whore." Sansa said, and without another thought added what she needed to, "besides you'd be a slut, not a whore. You're not getting paid."

Arya broke out in laughter and put her hand on Sansa's shoulder. "Actually, he's paying my phone bill right now," Arya chortled and Sansa joined in the giggling. "When did you get a dirty mouth?" Her sister asked raising her head to face Sansa.

"About the time I moved in with Ros, after rooming with you, and moving away from mom."

Sansa looked at her watch and realized the time. "I have to get going soon. Wait about ten minutes then go in the shower and rinse. Use cool water at first and don't stop until the water runs clear. Then use the conditioner that came with the dye," she finished, pointing the small bottle on the counter.

"Thanks for..."

"No, I am not finished," Sansa said cutting her off and Arya gave her a puzzled stare. "After you are done with all of that, call mom. Or Jon. Someone."

"What will happen if I don't?" Arya asked.

"Your hair will fall out," Sansa said with a wink, and Arya rolled her eyes. "They miss you Arya."

"Okay, okay. I'll give them a call tomorrow," she said.

"Promise?" Sansa asked.

"Yes, promise." Arya repeated.

"And you'll be at the party tomorrow at eight?"

"Looking forward to it."

"Really?"

"Yes, actually."

"What's Gendry going as?" Sansa asked.

"Probably nothing," Arya said with a disappointed sigh. "It kinda bugs me, I want him to dress up as something cool...but he's my sugar daddy, so I really can't complain."

"I'd hug you quick, but I don't want get my clothes all blonde," Sansa said.

"Hug me? Ew." Arya dryly responded.

It was Sansa's turn to roll her eyes as she exited the room. Before she could leave her sister called out "Sansa!" She turned back around and looked at her now-blonde sibling. "Thanks," she said in tiny voice.

"Of course," Sansa replied and thought for a moment and asked "why me?"

"Uh?" Arya answered.

"Why did you call me? You called me and didn't call the others, and then helped me move in with Ros. Why?"

"You helped me move out. You walked in front of mom and moved my stuff into a van that would take me to life of certain pre-martial sex. I knew you were on my side."

"We are all on your side." Sansa said reassuringly.

"I hope," she answered, talking a deep breath.

"We all love you Arya," Sansa said with a small smile.

"Ew," Arya said with a chuckle, returning the smile to Sansa.

**October 31, 2003 (or that Halloween)**

**The Babysitter**

"Don't go out with him tonight," Cersei ordered Jamie. The work day was winding down and his sister, in a silky red dress with gold trim, had berated her brother for the last ten minutes about his plans for the evening.

"He had a hard day, he wants to blow off some steam," he told his twin sister. It was a little after five and Jamie excepted Tyrion at any minute. His little brother usually wasn't punctual but Tyrion would most likely want his evening of debauchery to begin as soon as possible.

"Let him go blow himself on his own," Cersei said about her little brother.

_If he could do that he probably wouldn't be in the predicament he currently is in. _

"I'm sorry. I won't be able to make it to dinner tonight. You'll just have to entertain dad on your own," Jamie told Cersei for the third time.

"You promised me you wouldn't make me go through that again. I can't stand to be alone with him."

"_None _of us can stand to be alone with him. You'll be fine. You're his favorite."

"Are you fucking serious?" Cersei snapped at him. "The only reason he even stands me is because I look like you."

"I'm not the favorite," Jamie sternly told his sister.

"Yes, you are," she said with a smirk. "You always have been. Even if you don't admit it."

"I am _not _the favorite," Jamie angrily told her.

"I don't know why it bothers you," Cersei chuckled. "Being the favorite has its benefits. Dad overlooks all your short coming and cuts you the most slack. You don't have to deal with his constant barrage of bullshit, you don't get hounded to settle down and start a family. Last week he told me that I needed to just pick a man and get married or I'd never be able to give him any grandchildren because my 'parts would get old.'"

"You're parts would get old?" Jamie asked and nearly gagged on the word 'parts.' "Our father does have a way with words."

"He does and unless you come to dinner tonight I'll have to deal with it on my own. Maybe I won't even go."

"You have to go. Tyrion isn't going tonight, and now neither am I, if the three of us all bail we'll never hear the end of it."

"What's he going to do? Disown us? Fire us?" Cersei laughed. "It'd be great never have to speak to my father again about my 'parts.' And he could never fire me. I know where all the dirty laundry. I'm the one that cleaned it and tucked it away when the blood stains wouldn't come out. And you, you're the favorite. You'll never get fired. Only one of us could get fire and father hasn't gotten around to that quite yet."

There was a loud rapping on the door. "Come in," Jamie said, regretting the choice of putting Tyrion and Cersei in the same room at the same time.

Tyrion entered and looked like he was about to say something until he caught sight of his older sister sitting across from Jamie. "Jamie," he said with a nod to his brother. "Cunt," with a nod to his sister.

"Stumpy," Cersei greeted her brother with the same 'pet name' she had used since she was nine.

"Stumpy," Tyrion snorted. "We're adults, get a better name."

"Stumpy little shit?" Cersei asked. "Is that better?"

"Better. Why don't you go somewhere and think of other insults. Or maybe find someone on the staff you haven't fucked yet. Maybe the blonde Targaryen boy in the mail room. I don't our family has screwed over the Targaryens enough yet."

Jamie cringed at the name Targaryen and Cersei lazily laughed at her little brother as her eyes burned with fury. "Oh, Stumpy, you're so funny!" she exclaimed in a high pitched voice and glared at Tyrion.

"Just, get the fuck out of here," Tyrion groaned. "I don't fucking have time for your usual bullshit. We have a reservation for six and I want to keep it."

Cersei looked to Jamie once more, her green eyes, the same that Jamie had, pleading with him to save her from their father. Jamie just shrugged, guilty for picking on sibling over the other, but she'd be fine. She wasn't the favorite, but he hated her far less than he hated Tyrion.

"Fine," Cersei cold told them as she rose from the chair and straightened out the red skirt she was wearing. "You two boys have a gay old time tonight."

"And you have fun being the Targaryen boy's jizz bucket," Tyrion spat as she exited the room.

"Will you two ever just behave?" Jamie asked wearily, tired of watching this fight over, and over, and over again.

"No. She thinks I killed her mother. And I think she's a total twat. I'm a snake and she's a mongoose...who is also a total twat."

Jamie just rolled his eyes and together they headed for dinner.

**October 31, 2003 (or that Halloween)**

**Mother Stark**

The house was eerily and painfully quiet. Cat didn't like the quiet. She wasn't used to the quiet. She was used to Jon and Rob arguing about what movie to go see or who would get the car that night. Ned and the boys screaming at the television about whichever game they were watching. Arya and Sansa endlessly bickering about time in the bathroom or the volume of the music Sansa played.

It was all quiet now. None of them were there now.

It was just Cat now, sitting alone in her house late afternoon, sipping some red wine. It was a habit she had picked up recently and had tried her best to keep from her husband. Grocery shopping without him and doing the dishes before he got home greatly aided her rouse. The wine was cool and sweet against her lips as she sat in silence thinking. Just thinking. She did a lot of that now.

Thinking about Rob following his father's footsteps and working for an insurance company in Milwaukee. Jon, who had moved to Canada to follow his career in earth science. Bran, her little Bran, who had moved out to coast to go to school. Cat was so proud when her son was admitted to Princeton but now she wished she had told him they wouldn't be able to afford it. She had only talked to her son once in the last three weeks and it was possible he wouldn't be able to make it home for Thanksgiving. And if Bran didn't make it home for Thanksgiving then that meant two of her children wouldn't be attending.

Cat took a large sip from her glass and got a refill.

Arya moved out almost five months ago and Cat had not talked to her daughter since then. Arya had not reached out to anyone in the family. Cat didn't know if Arya was okay, if she was making ends meet, how school was going. She was totally in the dark of her youngest daughter's life.

Cat took another large sip.

Well, some of that wasn't true. Arya had reached out to Sansa when her eldest daughter decided to join her little sister in Madison. When Cat asked how Arya was doing she vaguely said 'she's okay.' Sansa was keeping in her in the dark now. Sansa had joined Arya in Madison and maybe she wouldn't even be down for Thanksgiving. They had all left her. Some for work, some for school, and Arya for a boy.

A boy. A Baratheon. Gendry didn't seemed much like Robert but Cat never trusted him all the same. She cursed Ned for introducing Arya to the Baratheon family. Robert was a drunken bastard and Cat didn't want that fate for her daughter. If the son was even a little bit like the father her little Arya would be destroyed. She wouldn't let that happen to her daughter.

But, she could do nothing. She was alone in the quiet dark. She couldn't protect her daughter if she never saw her, or even spoke to her.

There was a ring on the telephone. Cat staggered to her feet and answered the phone.

"Hello?" she said to no response. She could hear someone on the other breathing. "Hello?" she asked again.

"Hi...mom..." a familiar voice said. It was Arya.

"Hi..." was all Cat could stammer. "...Arya. How are you?"

"I'm good," Arya rigidly said. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well. Your father should be home soon. I think going to make some chicken wings tonight. I can start dinner so much later nowadays," she wistfully said.

"You have five less mouths to fill," her youngest daughter said with a little chuckle. "You just have to take care of Dad. And I'm sure he can figure out how to make a hot pocket if push comes to shove."

"Oh, I wouldn't make your father eat a hot pocket." Cat told her daughter and heard her sigh. Cat wasn't sure what to say and in the moment was gripped by sadness realizing she had lost the ability to speak to her youngest daughter. Without anything else to say, Cat asked what she always asked when Arya didn't want to talk at the dinner table. "How's school?"

"Ohh, it's okay. Same old. Well, I got elected the secretary of the United Nations Student Organization."

"What's that?" Cat asked.

"Well...it's a club where we discuss and learn about the UN. It's fun. Actually, in March I'm going to New York as part of the United Nations Student Conference."

"Really?" Cat asked and heard her own voice perk up.

"Yeah, we'll go there for a week. We'll represent the country of Columbia in mock committees and stuff like that. I'll even get to go into the UN building and go in the general assembly room."

"That's sounds like an amazing opportunity honey," Cat said and took a deep breath. "It's so good to hear from you."

"It's good to hear you to," Arya told her mother. "How's dad doing?"

"He doing good. He'll be home soon. He'll want to talk to you."

"That'd be nice," Arya said and there was another silence. Arya said nothing. She was waiting for Cat to say something first.

_She wants me to ask about _**_him. _**

"...how's Gendry?" she asked her daughter.

"He's doing great," she said and Cat could hear her voice relax. "He really likes his new job and he's pretty good at it."

"What does he do again?" Cat asked.

"He's a graphic designer for an ad agency. He's pretty low-level now, but he's making it work," she happily told her mother.

"That's good to hear. He does that full time?" Cat asked hoping to hear that she wasn't supporting a freeloading Baratheon like Ned once did with Robert.

"Oh yeah, he works full time. Has benefits and everything," Arya proudly told her.

"That's good," Cat told her daughter, thinking it best to change the topic, not trusting herself to talk about him. "Have you talked to your brothers and Sansa lately?"

"I just got off the phone with Jon. I was going to give the rest of them a call this weekend...well, except Sansa. I see her all the time," she said with a chuckle at the notion of spending time with her sister. "I'm actually going to her Halloween party tomorrow night."

_Sansa's having a party? She didn't mention that...I wonder what her roommate is making her do. _

Cat and Arya talked for a few more minutes about Sansa's party and other things. Cat went on about what her sister Lysa was up to and Arya sat quietly and listened. Cat was afraid she wasn't even listening when she asked her daughter, "will you make it down for Thanksgiving?"

"Umm, sure," Arya said with a slight slur in her voice.

_Is she drinking? Is he driving her to drink? _

"**We **were planning on coming down and seeing Willow and Eddie. We already promised to have lunch with them. But, we can come over for a bit," her little Arya informed her mother.

_We? They're a we?_

"A **bit**?" Cat asked.

"Yeah," Arya said with a sigh, "Gendry has work the day after Thanksgiving and so do I. So, we were going to leave Wednesday night and come back Thursday night."

"Well-l-l-l," Cat said slowly, "Sansa is coming down Wednesday night if you wanted to come down with her. I'm sure you could get a ride back to Madison on Thursday."

"**No**, I'll come down with Gendry. I told Gendry's mom we'd see her and I'm not going to break that promise."

"Arya, you should really spend thanksgiving with family," Cat told her young daughter.

"I am. Mother. I'm just saying we already made plans. It's important to **us **to see you, but we also want to see Gendry's family."

Cat had heard just about enough of this nonsense. "Arya, you haven't been home in over five months. You need to see your family. Gendry isn't your family!

"Yes he is! He's more family than you've ever been. He fucking loves me for who I am! And doesn't constantly try to change me!"

"Don't say that! We all love you. I love you!"

"Well, that's fucking nice to know. You love me. When you aren't disappointed in me, or trying to control me, you love me. How fucking great!"

"Stop swearing young lady!"

Cat could hear Arya's jaw clench and her teeth grit in rage. "I thought I made it clear last time. I'm not a child anymore Caitlin. I'm an adult and I make my own decisions. I made the decision to move in with Gendry. I made the decision to call you. Which I now know was a mistake! So, I've just made another decision, I'm done talking to you and you will not be seeing us for Thanksgiving!"

"But, Arya," Cat tried to reason with her daughter but was met with silence. There was a click and the line went dead.

**AN:**

**Sorry about the delay in this chapter. A minor case of writer's block, and sub-zero temperatures delayed this. It was so cold I couldn't freaking write in my heated apartment. That's messed up. **

**A recent review asked "why doesn't Tyrion have dwarfism in this story?" When I started writing I thought about 'giving' Tyrion dwarfism but felt uncomfortable about. This story, although at times with outrageous characters and circumstances, is very much rooted in reality. Not to spoil my story, but if you haven't noticed Tyrion is addicted to Xanex. At some point he is going to deal with that in a very real way. Shae's pregnancy is the same way. She's going to have [son's name redacted for spoilers] and Tyrion is going to be a father. All of that will be dealt with in a way that I think is grounded in reality to our world (with hilarious, sad, and at times touching outcomes.) Anyways, I didn't feel like I had the life experience to write realistically what it is like to be a dwarf. It isn't just being short – people with dwarfism suffer from numerous secondary diseases , face prejudice, and so on. I didn't want to do a poor job on that so I just made Tyrion a rather short dude. **

**Just to be clear, Jamie and Cersei aren't a thing, at least not a sexual thing. This is again me trying to root stuff in reality. In south central Wisconsin there isn't that much incest. I admit the same is true(ish) for Westros, but I didn't want to touch that. Although I do admit of all the ships in ASOIF Jamie and Cersei actually love each other and seem to have a decent relationship (before she goes batshit paranoid in book four, but let's not focus on that part.) If you are a "Misfits" fan I hinted towards where Jamie's story would go in my AN for chapter 22 (Calm - Part 2...Holy shit, my other story has thirty fucking chapters and I still have so much shit to get though. Seriously, at least 10-15 more chapters in the story.)**

**Sorry for any typos - my beta is currently fighting a cold. Actually, if she wasn't sick this would have gone up yesterday...I may or may not live with this person. **

**Next time – We flash forward again to Tyrion and Sansa's first date and unplanned first _time. _Tyrion reads from his favorite book series – A Ballad of Hot and Cold Things****. The Imp arrives at Whiskey Dick's where he meets the hound, the bride, and the bull. Ohh yeah, and a couple of our characters will drop acid. **


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven ****(or n****ever rub another man's rhubarb**) 

**November 22, 2003 (or the first date)**

**The Cheater**

The unexpected began at 11:37pm.

After dinner and coffee, Tyrion invited his date back to his apartment for dessert. He didn't invite her for _that _dessert. He truly expected to pick up some ice cream from the grocery store down the street from his building, enjoy it quietly with her at his apartment, and then take her back home.

That didn't happen.

Tyrion couldn't help himself. They returned to his apartment like he planned. Thankfully, he did in fact have an ice cream scooper, two clean bowls, and two clean spoons. It would have been a shame if they had to claw the ice cream out of the box with their hands. They sat quietly at his kitchen table and chatted. They talked about Sansa's job search, about her new apartment, about her recent family difficulties. Tyrion wasn't surprised by any of it because he knew it was coming.

_This feels too easy. I'm not supposed to know that her sister recently moved out or that Sansa can't find a job teaching music. It feels like I'm cheating. Probably because I am. _

He had spent eighty dollars on the dinner, five on the carton of ice cream, and twelve hundred in preparation fees to his 'friend.' They had paid off, he knew what to say, what not to say, even the exact clothes to wear. He had cheated, but he was okay with it. Cheating was only bad if you got caught or if you didn't win. And based on the look in her eyes, he was winning.

Since they had sat down together for dinner and Tyrion told his first joke, she had not stopped smiling. Her eyes, her giggle, he had grown addicted to her. Her eyes were two beautiful blue serene ponds, shimmering at him and coolly cascading over him. Her red fair framed her perfect face. Her cute little nose went with her cute little mouth and her luscious pink lips. When she giggled her nose wrinkled and her smile widened. Her laugh was sweet with a silky lilt to it. And when she finished laughing at his jokes she would look at him with those eyes. Those deep blue eyes. He couldn't get enough of that look.

Tyrion was now addicted to two things. Alprazolam and that look.

In a bizarre way, Tyrion was pleased that the first thing he noticed about her was that look. At dinner he paid all of his attention to her face, to the look that intoxicated him, and to the reactions she gave. But now, as they merrily chatted at his kitchen table and she sat closer to him, he saw what he missed during dinner. That little black dress Tyrion _knew _she was going to wear was jaw-dropping. It clung to her curves perfectly. Showing plenty but leaving some to Tyrion's imagination.

_ My imagination. A place that Sansa dare not enter. _

"Do you prefer vanilla or chocolate?" Tyrion stammered, having difficultly keeping his eyes on her amazing gaze and not her dress that continued to hike up her leg. She was fidgeting with her legs, crossing and uncrossing them, over and over again. Tyrion thought she was fucking with him, taunting him to take a peek, but that didn't seem like the girl he just had dinner with.

_Or maybe it is. Maybe I should just grab her and...no...behave..._

"Vanilla is my fav," Sansa said with a smirk, and half a wine-induced slur. Tyrion had learned a lot about Sansa that night. One important thing was she was a total lush - two glasses of wine with dinner still greatly impaired her. She popped the spoon out of her mouth and daintily swiped a white droplet from her lips with a napkin.

_Okay, maybe she is fucking with me...okay...stay focused. _

"Growing up everyone in my house preferred chocolate. I only got vanilla when I was out with friends or bought my own."

"That's a shame," Sansa said and put her spoon down. His eyes lingers on her legs for just a moment until they were caught in her gaze. A gaze powerful enough to pull him back to her eyes. Silence filled the apartment as they just stared for a moment. He didn't know what she could see in scared, mismatched face, but she seemed content.

Tyrion looked at the clock on the wall and it turned to eleven-thirty seven.

What happened next was unexpected.

Without a thought his hand crept across the table to hers. His thumb rubbed little circles on her fingers and he basked in her warm skin. Only after he started did he realize what he was doing and he excepted her to recoil.

She didn't.

He looked up to her and he found her sitting with her eyes closed. Each breath she took seemed to send a shudder down her body. He looked down the table and saw her hand began to tremble. Like twig in a stiff breeze is it shook against his flesh until her arm snapped to her body.

"I'm sorry..." Tyrion began to mumble as he cursed himself for being so stupid.

And then she kissed him.

Her body lunged at him until their lips met. Shock was replaced by pleasure as he ran his fingers up her arms. When he heard her utter a soft moan he moved his hand to the back of her head and ran his hand through her silken hair.

It was 11:37pm and they had their first kiss.

**October 31, 2003 (or that Halloween)**

**The Imp**

Whiskey Dick's was a tavern The Imp enjoyed and a condition he feared of getting again. It had happened once to The Imp when he was in college, in his prime. It was dollar fifty shot night, and after his ninth, he had some trouble compelling his solider to rise to the occasion and march into that moist battle. The bar was a large place, that technically was a pub that served food during the day, with tables and booths across from the bar. Further in the back was a small stage where bands performed and a dance floor. It was the perfect place to find the twenty-two year old he desired and the nine shots he would probably take. Hopefully tonight he could enjoy Whiskey Dick's without getting Whiskey Dick.

_Maybe not nine shots tonight. Maybe only eight. _

Outside the large gray building was a line of eight or ten people smoking. Some people were dressed in Halloween costumes, and some in regular clothes, but the one who caught The Imp's attention was one particular metal head.

_Which is saying something because he's smoking next to someone dressed as Count Chocula._

He stood at least six foot eight and wore all black, the only color apparent were the words "THE HOUNDS" written in crimson across his shirt. His long greasy hair draped in front of his face. His face. His face had the most attention grabbing thing. At first The Imp thought it was a deformity, or maybe he was a burn victim. No, on the right side of his face was a large black scorpion. The tattoo covered most of the side of his face, with its tail wrapping around his ear and a green poisonous tip ending at his lip. The Imp had been moving at a brisk pace in front of Jamie but slowed as he gawked at this mountain of a man. When the scorpion faced behemoth noticed him, the Imp looked away, not wanting to avoid being stepped on by a giant, and went inside the bar.

"Two shots of whiskey," Tyrion told Marilyn Monroe. He had stormed into the dimly light bar, pushing past the drunken group of Ghostbusters until he reached the bar where he found a buxom Marilyn Monroe waiting to serve him a drink. The girl in front of him was great replica of the long dead bombshell. She had the necessary natural attributes needed - a voluptuous body, pink luscious lips, and The Imp could tell the proper mind set.

_The wig is totally a fake But, so it goes. _

"Any kind you'd like in particular?"

"Nope," The Imp told her. "Surprise me."

"Two shots of whiskey, _coming _right up," she told him with a wink. Tyrion couldn't help but watch in wonder as her nimble fingers poured the smoky brown nectar.

"Tyrion, I told you I'm not fucking going to do a shot," Jamie groaned when he joined his brother at the bar.

"I know," Tyrion said, taking the two shots Ms. Monroe placed down and tossed them back in succession.

"Jesus," his brother said as he watched The Imp pour back the drinks. "Slow down."

"Speed up," Tyrion answered him, placed a twenty on the bar for Ms. Monroe, and walked away from the bar. As the liquor burned down his throat he fully took in the glory that was a bar on Halloween. It was a ruckus that night and the music was deafening. A majority of the patrons, many of them college students, were dressed up in costume. There was a Tarzan that just came in from the cold October night with rigid, pink, angry exposed flesh. His Jane looked equally cold, but her pink flesh was pleasant to look at. A trio of drunk frat boys in gray jumpsuits came tonight as the Ghostbusters. Thankfully, Batman was there, standing off to the side, overlooking the chaos.

"Is the bouncer dresser up as Batman?" The Imp asked his brother.

"I don't know," Jamie sharply told his brother, with a fresh gin and tonic in his hand.

"I thought you said you weren't drinking."

"I said I wasn't going to do a shot," he corrected his brother and took a sip of his drink. "But I'll need to drink to get through the night. Let's go sit down," Jamie said and gestured towards a table that sat across from the bar.

"I don't want to," The Imp whined as he began to eye 'Jane'. She didn't seem to attached to her Tarzan, who looked vapid and unobservant. He could probably sneak the brown haired wild girl off to the bathroom for seven to ten minutes without her ape-man noticing. He was very familiar with girls in that bathroom. Or maybe he could get one of the slutty mermaids Tyrion just noticed near the dance floor. The tart with a jet black hair clearly didn't know that her clam bikini had slipped off kilter leaving her left tit exposed. Or she didn't care about her exposed breast. Either way, The Imp was intrigued.

"No," Jamie told The Imp.

"No? No what?"

"You already made one mistake, which you learned about today. Don't make another."

"Spoil sport," The Imp snorted. "You worry too much."

"I have to. You don't worry at all."

"You don't have to worry. Whatever girl here is lucky enough to get my present tonight will definitely get it gift wrapped."

"Wonderful visual," Jamie growled. "Let's go sit down."

"No, I have things to do" The Imp insisted.

"No, you don't."

"Yes, yes I do."

"Tyrion, let's just go sit down and enjoy our drinks."

"I don't have a drink," The Imp informed his brother.

"If I got get you something, would you sit down?" Jamie asked.

"Fine," The Imp agreed, knowing he needed a minute away from Jamie anyways. The Imp scurried to a table and took out the small zip lock bag. It was only seven-thirty and he wasn't sure if he wanted to begin a trip this early. Although he had talked Jamie into coming, his older brother was a wet blanket and would smother all of The Imp's fun. At some point The Imp would have to send him away or give him the slip. Either way, The Imp's journey wouldn't begin yet, so he placed the baggie back into his pocket before Jamie arrived with drinks.

"Thank you," The Imp said as he greedily took the drink.

Jamie sat across from him at the table and inspected him. "Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"What are you going to do?"

"Going to get drunk tonight," The Imp dryly answered.

_Get drunk...among other things. _

"What are you going to do tomorrow then?" Jamie asked.

"...I have no idea."

"Well, do you want to be with this woman?"

"No."

"Do you want to help her raise this child?"

The Imp remained silent. He hadn't thought about it. The scope of that decision boggled his mind.

"What are you going to do?" Jamie asked again.

"I. Don't. Know."

"Well, you should..." Jamie began.

"Just shut up," The Imp begged. "I can't take that right now. I'm fucked. I know it. I can deal with it tomorrow. I don't have any answers for you tonight."

"Fine," Jamie said with a groan and took a sip of his drink. "Did I tell you what happened at work today? Dad gave me a new class action."

"Who are we suing this time?"

"Blackwater."

"Blackwater Construction? Oh, well, you're fucked. I would want to touch that with a five foot pole."

"That was my response. But you know Dad..." Jamie began to ramble about the case. The Imp tried to listen but his attention was drawn by something else.

Behind Jamie activity swirled. The scorpion-tattooed giant had entered the bar and was pursued by a short blonde girl. She was dressed in a brilliant yellow jumpsuit with black stripes running down her arms. It looked familiar but The Imp couldn't place. She pushed past three drunken frat boys dressed as Ghostbusters, the biggest and drunkest of them tweaking her ass as she passed. He was a good two feet taller than she was, so his pace and ability to push people out his way gave him a lead as she moved through the crowd.

"Ass-Fuck!" she screamed at him and drew the attention of everyone at the bar.

He whipped around to her and appeared to shake his head and laugh. The roar of the bar reached a high point and The Imp couldn't hear what they were saying. The blonde stood her ground, liked a David slinging verbal stones at Goliath. After a minute the giant appeared to grow weary of this and attempted to leave, but 'David' latched onto his arm. Furious at being touched, he spun back around and stuck is face right in front of hers. It looked like it could come to a head until out of the crowd a dark haired man appeared. He was tall and strong, but was dwarfed by the giant. The man put himself between the quarrel, angering the blonde, and amusing the giant.

"Are you listening to me at all?" Jamie asked.

"You were talking?"

"Yes, about the Blackwater case. It's huge. Over five hundred people claiming injury because of this fucking company."

"Uh-huh," Tyrion moaned as he searched the crowd looking for the blonde or the giant. The giant had vanished and blonde was beginning to strut towards The Imp.

"You still aren't listening are you?"

"Fuck no," The Imp grunted. "There's a hot blonde coming over here," The Imp informed Jamie and he straightened up his posture.

"These seats taken?" My friend will be over in a minute with some drinks," the short girl asked in a smooth voice.

"Not at all," The Imp answered.

"And who are you?" Jamie asked.

"Oh, my name is Beth," she said and smirked proudly at Tyrion.

_Beth. Beth...I don't know any blondes named Beth. _

The two shots began to seep into his already intoxicated body. The pills had thoroughly coated him all day and now the whiskey slowed him further. She had a familiar face but something was different. Her eyes were blue and that didn't seem right to The Imp for whatever reason. Her blonde hair also looked...wrong...but he still didn't know what it was. He could feel his mouth twist in thought and he heard the girl giggled lightly at him until it finally clicked into place.

"What?" Jamie asked as The Imp clapped his hands at the serendipity of the moment.

_This waitress? I loved this waitress! She told Tywin to shove it up his ass! _

"Do you remember that story about the waitress that told dad off? Here she is," he said with one more laugh.

"Oh her," he said and gave her a weak smile, clearly not trusting The Imp with any person who had a vagina. "It's nice to meet you, Beth. My name is..."

"Jamie Lannister," she finished his sentence and the men raised both of his eyebrows. "Oh, I've heard you roar," she explained, opening her jaw afterward to mimic the infamous Lannister commercial.

"Urgh," he said, taking another, larger, sip from his drink. "That fucking commercial," Jamie growled, wiping his mouth after he finished.

_I wasn't allowed to be in it and it bothered me. Jamie was in that monstrosity and it haunts him. You just can't win in this family sometimes. _

"Ohh, you have a _friend_ here as well?" Tyrion excitedly asked.

_Maybe I can find someone Jamie will actually fuck._

"_They_ should be here soon. I said to come over here with our drinks because I noticed two interesting men to talk to," Beth told them as she sat next to Tyrion.

"And what brings you out tonight?" The Imp asked.

"Ohh, I had one of those days. Supposed to be great, ended up screaming at my mom over the phone," Beth sighed.

"A lot of bad phone calls today it seems," Jamie groaned.

"So, Beth," Tyrion said as he leaned close so he could hear, "besides having opinions on the first amendment and waiting tables, what do you do?"

Beth's eyes snapped around the bar looking for something or someone. After a second she focused on the same dark-haired man from before. He wore an unbuttoned black shirt and a t-shirt with The Kool-Aid Man emblazoned on the front. He walked to the table with a curious, slightly intimidating gaze. His eyes focused on The Imp who realized he had rubbed another man's rhubarb and made some distance between himself and Beth. He still look perturbed, but his focus left The Imp as he sat down next to Jamie and placed a drink in front of Beth.

"Hi there," he said to the table, as Jamie turned to face him with a puzzled face.

"Hello," Jamie said with a nod. "Is this your friend?" he asked Beth.

"Yeah! He's my boyfriend..." she yelled and then abruptly paused before saying this name. "Dick!"

"Dick?" the man sputtered in disbelief.

"And what is Dick's last name?" Tyrion asked with a chuckle.

"Bull!" she yelled out to the bewildered table of men. After the word 'Bull' popped out of her mouth she seemed equally surprised by it.

"Dick Bull?" 'Dick Bull' repeated.

"Yeah, Dick!" she yelled, "don't you know your own name?"

"I guess not!" he yelled back to her over the ruckus of the bar. He gave him a huge nod and stern look, clearly ordered him to just 'go with it.' With a shrug he said, "Hi! My name is totally Dick Bull!" he said, holding his hand out. They all shook hands while laughing.

"Hey! Don't ruin it!" Beth yelled at the laughing boys. "And don't you have something to say?"

"I don't even know my name! So, no, I don't know what it is I should say!"

"C'mon, Dick! Isn't this guy a little too close for comfort?" Beth asked with a strong slur and a gust wafted from her mouth and smacked The Imp in the face.

_This girl knows how to drink on a budget. She pre-gamed with at least two rum and cokes before she got here. _

"Is he?" Dick answered her flatly and shot The Imp another look. His blue eyes and nose flared in rage. He didn't say anything else. He didn't need to. The Imp got the message.

_Don't fucking touch my girlfriend. _

"Yes! Don't you have to protect my honor?!" Beth asked in exasperation, in her drunk state not noticing the look in the eyes of her intimidating boyfriend.

"Your honor?" Dick sputtered with a chuckle. "When I walked in, I clearly heard you yell the word 'Ass-Fuck!' Did you want me fucking challenge _Sandy_ to a duel or something?"

Beth snorted in annoyance and took a large swig of her drink. Noticing her frustration he asked, "did you want me to beat this guy up or something?"

"No! I just wanted you to freak him out a bit," she sighed, "you didn't go along with the plan."

Dick gave a quick look to Jamie, who shrugged his shoulders. "What plan?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked.

"No!" he yelled back as the song ended and noise began to fade so they could talk at a normal volume. "If it was obvious we wouldn't be having this conversation. But if you don't mind me asking, what was the plan?"

"Well, you were supposed to come over here and freak out this little guy here!"

"Hey!" The Imp exclaimed.

"Don't be offended. It's the truth. Anyways, you were supposed to come over here and be jealous that he was all over me!"

"I was not!" The Imp defended himself and scooted his chair further away from Beth to prove his point. Not wasn't it true (it would have been but The Imp didn't get the chance) he did not want the large man to eat him. Jamie began to shake his head at the ridiculousness circling him.

"Again, don't be offended by the truth," she repeated.

Dick stared incredulously for a moment and asked, "so, the plan that we didn't discuss but was implied was that I should have come over here and freak this guy out because you came over and sort of hit on him?"

"Exactly! Is that so hard to understand?" Beth asked and looked to The Imp for confirmation that she was right.

"I think the better question is why are you having this conversation in front of complete strangers?" Jamie sniggered.

"Oh, don't be rude Jamie," The Imp stammered. "Beth and I here are old friends. Anyone who tells our father to shove it up his ass is a person of astounding character. And this lad here looks like an upstanding fellow."

_An upstanding fellow who would never hit me because I kinda-sorta hit on his girlfriend. _

Dick's glower began to disappear and The Imp relaxed a bit. "I doubt it," Dick replied with a shrug. "My name is Dick Bull, so chances are I'm a gay porn star or something." They all laughed and began to make small talk. Jamie began to drone about that case as The Imp went about doing a magic trick.

_I will make this gin and tonic disappear. _

Beth did the same illusion and annihilated her first drink.

_It's a shame this girl's not single. We might be drunken soul mates. _

"You never did answer me!" The Imp yelled to Beth, who sat right next to him, but the volume of Whiskey Dick's made conversation difficult even to those that sat next to each other. Jamie and Dick spoke to each other as did The Imp and Beth.

"Huh?" she yelled, not hearing what he said.

"Besides waiting tables and trying to trick your boyfriend into beating up strangers, what do you do?"

"Oh, I am a senior at UWM, political science!"

"That's what my major was! Wanna be a lawyer?" he asked.

"If it wouldn't cost me around hundred thousand dollars to get a law degree, that'd be great," she wistfully, drunkenly laughed.

"That's a shame, it suits you, except for the fact that most of the people you work with people who are stuffy and no fun," he said and glanced at Jamie. "My advice would be to be born into a family of lawyers who would pay for your schooling and then tirelessly work to achieve their respect."

Beth couldn't help but laugh at the man. "What?" he asked.

"You became a lawyer to make your father happy?" she said, snorting as she spoke.

"There were many reasons...but yes I did become a lawyer to make my father happy."

She continued to laugh. "Well that's a shame. I only saw you and your father for about twenty minutes, but I'm pretty sure your father hates you."

"I like to think he hates me so much that he works his way back to loving me," The Imp retorted, trying to hold a straight face. As their eyes met they both broke out laughing, enjoying the drunken state of each other, which drew the attention of their companions.

"What?" Jamie asked as the music died down for a moment.

"Oh nothing, just discussing how father despises me," The Imp chortled and Jamie rolled his eyes.

Dick got up from the table. "I am going to go use the bathroom quick," he said, but then looked around the bustling tavern and noticed a line twenty deep outside the men's bathroom. "Well, as quick as possible," he said with a shrug.

"Dick," Beth said and couldn't help but chuckle at his name, "would you get me another drink?"

"Now Ary - are you sure that's the right thing...Beth?"

"Please! It's my second favorite holiday! And you you know I had a bad day!" she said and batted her eyelashes at him.

He sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll get you one more after I get back." He gave a quick glance to The Imp, clearly not trusting him, before he left.

"I think I'll join you." Jamie said as he stood up, then they both made their way towards the bathroom.

The Imp and Beth the Bride sat for a moment in silence.

They were both drunk and giggling. But The Imp knew the truth.

_We are both miserable. _

**November 22, 2003 (or the first date)**

**The Cheater**

Sleep eluded Tyrion and he wasn't sure why. There were two possible answers and they were probably both right.

Detoxing was the first reason. He had began to taper his 'medication' intake since Halloween and he had felt the effects. Each night had been harder than the last to fall asleep as Tyrion took less of his 'medication.'

The second reason was guilt. Guilt for what Tyrion did. He hadn't tricked her, he hadn't lied to her...

_Except for that one lie._

….But it was dirty all the same. He regretted what he had done to got her into bed. That wasn't his goal, but it happened all the same. He just wanted to make a good impression, and he based on what happened he succeeded.

Never before had he been so uncomfortable laying next to a beautiful sleeping woman. He lied worse to women before. He had worse things to women before. But, Sansa was different. Tyrion wanted it to be different. But, of course, it wasn't that easy. At least she had no idea what he had done to learn so much about her...

_...or that other little secret I share with another woman. _

Unable to find sleep he left the girl in his bed and adjourned to the living room. This wasn't the first time The Imp had a problem falling asleep lately. He was re-reading his favorite book series and he was near the end of the first book.

_**The world quaked as the fire died out. Sapsady rose from the smoldering embers and saw the world anew. From her womb sprung three furry children that scampered by her feet. The first, black and white, slithered up to her breast and clamped onto her teat. "Ah!" she shrieked as she swatted the beast in the face and it plummeted back to the ground. With his dark emerald eyes the ferret cursed her. He would be fed when she deemed it right.**_

_** A smaller one, olive green and umber, crawled up her back and she winced in pain as his tiny claws pierced her flesh. He perched on her shoulder and began to ogle her other breast. **_

_** "No," Sapsady sternly told him with a mighty out stretched finger. **_

_** "Rah," the little beast squealed in protest, but obeyed its mother.**_

_** The third, shit brown and flowering red, waddled in circles on the ground. Sapsady bent down and removed the afterbirth that covered her child's face. Once her darling son was able to see he scurried up her arm to the other shoulder. **_

_** Her followers looked on in wonder. The Bison Lords fell to their knees and began to chant "Maefuroa! Maefuroa!" Women wept, children cheered. The heaviest gaze came from Jonat as his eyes wandered from ground up her naked body. As her children scurried on her body she could see his ferret thicken in his breeches. His ferret, much like hers, would have to learn to obey their mother. She had a realm and dynasty to reclaim. A birthright that was her's to take. It would be hers and she would take it with, blood, fire, and ferrets. **_

_** She was Sapsady Lunar, twenty-ninth of her name, heifer-bride of Bison Lord Plodder Sunggyrois, Guardian of the Great Oak Ocean. **_

_** And now she was the Mother of Ferrets. **_

Tyrion placed Fire-Blood and Ferrets by the other works by Reginald G.G. Watson on his book shelf. Tomorrow he would continue the saga of **_A Ballad of Hot and Cold Things_** with A Typhoon of Tridents.

"Tyrion?" Sansa asked. She had appeared from the bedroom, wrapped in the comforter from his bed, clearly not yet comfortable for him to see her naked outside of his dimly lit room.

"Ohh, did I wake you?" he asked.

"No...well, yeah, kinda. What's wrong?" she replied.

"I couldn't sleep," he honestly answered with a shrug.

"Ohh," she sighed with a flushed look. "Is it me? Arya told me I talk in my sleep. I can go if you want me to."

"Oh no! No, no, no. It's just me. I have some insomnia sometimes. It isn't you."

_It's the drugs I'm trying to ween off of. _

"Let's go back to bed," Tyrion told her with a grin. He turned out the light and they went back to bed. Sansa laid on her side and Tyrion joined her, his arms wrapped around her, his face nuzzling her silken hair.

"I had a wonderful time tonight," Tyrion whispered to her.

"...Me too," she murmured in the darkness.

He felt her breathing slow as she laid in his arms and drifted to sleep. He enjoyed the feel of her body in his arms. It didn't matter how she got here. She was in his arms and that's all that mattered.

_Keep on telling yourself that. _

**October 31, 2003 (or that Halloween)**

**The Imp**

"And why was you day so bad, Beth?" The Imp asked. She had mentioned problems with her mother, and although The Imp killed his mother at birth, he certainly had enough daddy issues to understand.

There was a pause as Beth thought of her answer, clearly not eager to discuss this topic. "I got into a screaming fight with my mother over the phone after not speaking to her for a few months because I moved in with Dick."

"That's a shame," he answered.

"I think she hates me," Beth said, then continued as whatever filters she had were currently numbed by alcohol. "I can't blame her because I hate myself too. I am currently being crushed by my personal life and my loving boyfriend is forced to take care because he has to, not because he wants to."

The Imp said nothing. His brain was slowed by all he had taken so far, but he felt for her. Hating yourself and a parent was his area of expertise.

"And you know the worst part?" she asked with sad laugh. "I think I hate Dick a little too because I picked him over my family. And if I had to do it again I'd do it the exact same way. I would never speak to my family again to be with him."

"You love him so much you made your way to hate," The Imp said dryly.

"I guess. I'm not sure if I am ever going to be able to talk to my mother again without screaming at her," she sigh, reaching for empty drink, and groaned when she remembered Dick hadn't returned yet with her refill.

_Poor girl. She deserves a break. And I do have stuff to share. _

The Imp looked at her for a moment and then reached into his pocket. He looked around quickly to make sure no one around was watching and quickly asked Beth, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you think my name is Beth and I see just as much misery in your eyes as I know must be in mine," she answered, looking into this eyes. He pulled a round pill holder that held some of what Bronn brought him.

"What do you have there?" she asked.

"Some stuff that I use when I am having a bad day like yours. Which I also had today," he said, reaching for the pills and taking out four, giving two to Beth and keeping two for himself. Beth moved to pop the pills into her mouth but The Imp stopped her.

"Is Dick gonna be with you the rest of the night? And he'll be sober?" Beth nodded. "You really want to get fucked up?" The Imp asked.

"Yes," Beth answered without thinking. The Imp again peered around the bar, which was still in a frenzy of activity. The Ghostbusters talked with a man who looked like Count Chocula and Batman was currently hitting on Rosie the Riveter. No one was paying attention to the blonde and the impish man. He reached into his other pocket and took out a small baggie containing four sugar cubes.

"Is that fucking acid? You fucking want me drop acid?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"I am going to too. With these, it is fucking mellow," he said gesturing to the pills in his hands.

She paused for a moment again, but clearly had the same thought that The Imp had so many times before.

_ Fuck it. _

She held her hand out and he placed a sugar cube in it, then popped his pills into this mouth. "Don't worry about it and swallow," he directed her. She looked down into her hand and placed the pills into her mouth and gulped. "Put the cube on your tongue and let it melt," he said as he did the same himself. It began to dissolve in his mouth, and he knew his trip would begin soon.

She followed the instructions and placed the cube in her mouth. The Imp raised his empty glass towards Beth and proposed a toast. "To our parents," he said with a small, sad, grin. Beth nodded and clinked her empty glass against his.

**AN:**

_**The phrase 'never rub another man's rhubarb' is from the film Batman (1989) - said by Jack Nicholson - the third best Joker behind Heath Ledger and Mark Hamill.**_

_**For "Misfits" fans - I changed some of the dialogue here. When I went back and re-read the corresponding chapter in Misfits I didn't like what I wrote. I will probably go back and make the conversations match up later. **_

_**If you like A Ballad of Hot and Cold Things let me know. I love writing it. GRRM is a great writer, but his style and stories are so fun to parody. **_

_**My beta is feeling better - Huzzah!**_

_**Next Time - We learn how Tyrion got his scar, The Imp makes his escape, and Arya arrives at Sansa's party...a little bit different. **_


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